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LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 

PRINCETON,     N.    J. 

Presented  by 


rnrs.J.Uf.^oWs 


Divisio  n...  Sw*!f .S 
Section .^./.  t/     / 


SERMONS  ^0ifmHctr^ 


JAN  2b  1924 


A 


PREACHED    IN    THE 


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Bsmi  %m 


^S! 


CHAPEL  OF  HARVARD  COLLEGE 


JAMES   WALKER,  D.D. 


BOSTON: 
TICK  NOR    AND     FIELDS. 

1862. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1861,  by 
TICKNOR     AND     FIELDS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


University  Press,  Cambridge  : 
Stereotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co. 


CONTENTS. 


SERMON   I.  P^,, 

The  Mediator 2 

SERMON   II. 

The  Everlasting  Gospel 20 


SERMON   III. 
St.  Paul,  or  the  Scholar  among  the  Apostles 


SERMON    VII. 
Prayer       


39 


SERMON   IV. 
Alleged  Infidelity  of  Great  Men     ....      55 

SERMON    V. 
Inward  Manifestation  of  Christ        .        .        ,        .74 

SERMON    VI. 
The  Student's  Sabbath 86 


103 


IV  CONTENTS. 

SERMON    VIII. 
Religion  as  affected  by  the  Progress  of  the  Phys- 
ical Sciences 119 

SERMON   IX. 
Conscience 135 

SERMON  X. 
Motives 152 

SERMON   XI. 
Character 168 

SERMON   XII. 
Government  of  the  Thoughts 182 

SERMON   XIII. 
Difficulty,  Struggle,  Progress  .        .        ,        .199 

SERMON   XIV. 
Sins  of  Omission      ........    209 

SERMON   XV. 
No  Hiding-place  for  the  Wicked       ....    226 

SERMON   XVI. 
Thou  shalt  say,  No 239 

SERMON    XVII. 
The  Heart  more  than  the  Head        ....     252 


CONTENTS.  V 

SERMON    XVIII. 
Compromises 270 

SERMON   XIX. 
Conditions  of  Success  in  Life 286 

SERMON   XX. 
On  the  Choice  of  a  Profession 302 

SERMON   XXI. 
The  End  not  yet 323 

SERMON   XXII. 
Faith  and  Works 340 

SERMON   XXIII. 
Salvation  by  Hope .    353 

SERMON   XXIV. 
Differences    among    Christians    no    Objection    to 

Christianity 365 

SERMON   XXV. 
The  Day  of  Judgment 380 


SEEMONS. 


THE    MEDIATOR. 

FOR  THERE  IS  ONE  GOD,  AND  ONE  MEDIATOR  BETWEEN  GOD  AND 

MEN,  THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS.  —  1  Timothy  ii.  5. 

The  sense  of  man's  need  of  a  Mediator  did  not 
spring  up  for  the  first  time  in  Christianity.  It  seems 
to  have  had  its  origin  in  a  feeling  of  the  distance,  the 
incomprehensibleness,  the  unapproachableness  of  the 
unseen  object  of  fear  and  worship.  Common  men 
were  afraid  to  speak  to  God ;  they  did  not  conceive 
themselves  to  be  in  a  condition  to  speak  to  him  face 
to  face.  Accordingly,  they  looked  round  for  some 
person  or  persons,  bolder  or  holier  than  they,  who 
would  speak  to  God  for  them,  —  whether  to  ask  his 
aid,  or  to  acknowledge  his  goodness,  or  to  appease 
his  anger. 

Hence,  for  the  most  part,  the  priesthoods  of  the 
ancient  world  ;  for  it  was  out  of  this  sentiment  of 
ignorance,  and  awe,  and  human  unworthiness,  that 

1  A 


2  THE  MEDIATOR. 

nearly  all  of  what  was  good  or  bad  in  tlie  priestly 
office  arose.  We  see  its  beginnings  even  in  barba- 
rous tribes,  where  there  is  almost  always  one  or  more 
who,  in  the  character  of  magicians  or  necromancers, 
are  resorted  to  by  the  rest,  as  having  intercourse  and 
influence  with  the  invisible  powers.  In  India  and 
in  Egypt  the  same  idea  was  elaborately  carried  out 
in  the  organization  of  an  hereditary  sacerdotal  caste, 
arrogating  to  itself  the  exclusive  right  of  mediating 
between  earth  and  heaven.  And  so  of  Greece  and 
Rome  ;  for  though  in  their  best  days  this  assumption 
on  the  part  of  the  priests  was  reduced  and  limited 
in  many  ways,  it  was  by  no  means  extinct.  If  Soc- 
rates would  consult  the  Oracle  at  Delphi,  he  must 
do  it  through  a  priestess  of  the  temple  ;  if  Augus- 
tus would  know  the  will  of  the  Gods  as  to  the 
conduct  of  the  war,  there  must  be  a  diviner  hi  the 
camp. 

Turning  next  to  the  Hebrews,  we  find  a  people 
whose  very  form  of  government,  a  theocracy,  made 
it  necessary  that  almost  everything  should  be  done 
through  mediators  between  God  and  men.  Moses, 
by  whom  the  Law  came,  was  eminently  "  a  media- 
tor," and  is  expressly  so  denominated  in  the  New 
Testament.  He  also  says  of  himself  in  Deuteron- 
omy, "  I  stood  between  the  Lord  and  you  at  that 
time,  to  show  you  the  word  of  the  Lord."  Hence, 
too,  the  appointment  of  Aaron  and  his  posterity  as 


THE   MEDIATOR.  3 

a  perpetual  priesthood,  to  act  as  so  many  "  media- 
tors," through  whom  alone  the  people  were  to  have 
access  to  Jehovah  in  the  solemn  and  imposing  ser- 
vice of  the  Temple.  The  people  did  not  offer  up 
their  own  sacrifices ;  they  brought  the  victims  or 
oblations  to  the  priest,  who  made  the  offering  in 
their  name  and  stead.  The  people  did  not  so  much 
as  enter  the  vestibule  of  the  temple  :  even  in  the 
solemn  atoning  service,  which  was  for  the  whole  na- 
tion, the  priests  alone  went  in,  while  the  people 
stood  without.  So  likewise  in  great  national  emer- 
gencies, when  it  became  necessary  "  to  inquire  of 
the  Lord,"  it  was  through  the  High  Priest,  and 
by  means  of  the  Sacred  Lot,  that  the  response  was 
expected  and  given.  Such  at  least  was  the  original 
provision  ;  in  later  times  this  office  seems  to  have 
devolved,  for  the  most  part,  on  the  Prophets  ;  al- 
ways, however,  it  was  by  "  mediators." 

It  is  obvious,  therefore,  as  I  have  said  that,  Chris- 
tianity did  not  give  birth  to  the  idea  of  a  mediator 
between  God  and  men ;  neither  was  it  the  object 
of  Christianity  to  extend  that  idea,  or  the  agency 
representing  it,  but  rather  to  purify,  to  exalt,  and, 
in  some  respects,  to  limit  both. 

I  shall  begin  by  calling  your  attention  to  the 
limitations  here  referred  to,  as  the  first  step  to- 
wards a  truly  Christian  conception  of  the  Mediato- 
rial Office. 


4  THE  liIEDIATOR. 

In  the  first  place,  while  other  religions  acknowl- 
edge a  multitude  of  mediators,  Christianity  knows 
but  one.  So  in  the  text :  "  For  there  is  one  God, 
and  one  Mediator  between  God  and  men,  the  man 
Christ  Jesus."  Also,  in  another  place,  the  same 
Apostle  says,  if  possible  with  still  more  explicit- 
ness,  "  For  though  there  be  that  are  called  gods, 
whether  in  heaven  or  in  earth  (as  there  be  gods 
many,  and  lords  many),  but  to  us  there  is  but  one 
God,  the  Father,  of  whom  are  all  things,  and  we 
in  him ;  and  one  Lord,  Jesus  Christ,  by  wliom  are 
all  things,  and  we  by  him."  Accordingly,  the  whole 
scheme  of  mediation,  so  far  as  it  had  depended 
on  a  ritual  worship  and  the  ministration  of  men 
like  ourselves,  became  essentially  changed.  As  Ne- 
ander  has  said:  "Such  a  guild  of  priests  as  ex- 
isted in  the  previous  systems  of  religion,  empowered 
to  guide  other  men,  who  remained,  as  it  were,  in 
a  state  of  religious  pupilage ;  having  the  exclusive 
care  of  providing  for  their  religious  wants,  and  serv- 
ing as  mediators,  by  whom  all  other  men  must  first 
be  placed  in  connection  with  God  and  divine  things ; 
—  such  a  priestly  caste  could  find  no  place  within 
Christianity."  *  Instead  of  the  many  so-called 
"  mediators,"  in  whom  men  previously  trusted,  the 
Gospel  has  set   forth   one  all-sufficient  Mediator, — 

*  General  History  of  the  Christian  Eeligion  and  Church,  Vol.  I. 
p.  179. 


THE  MEDIATOR.  5 

one,  because  all-sufficient.  We  need  no  other,  and 
we  are  not  at  liberty  to  acknowledge  any  other. 
It  is  not  enough  considered  that  what  the  text  for- 
bids by  implication  is  just  as  true,  and  quite  as 
important,  as  what  it  expressly  asserts.  It  warns 
us  not  to  let  any  man,  or  any  body  of  men,  or  any- 
thing whatsoever,  save  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  come 
between  the  soul  and  its  Maker.  Mmisters,  wise 
and  pious  friends,  books,  religious  services,  early 
training,  —  all  these  aids  to  faith  and  piety  may 
help  to  put  us  into  the  way  to  God,  but  they  are 
not  the  way  itself.  We  must  not  suppose  thq^  it  is 
only  by  them,  or  through  them,  that  we  have  access 
to  the  Father,  or  that  they  can  bar  this  access  to 
the  humblest  of  Christ's  followers. 

In  the  second  place,  not  only  has  this  way  of 
access  to  the  Father  been  opened  to  us  by  one 
Mediator,  but  by  him  once  for  all.  This  is  inti- 
mated again  and  again.  While  the  old  priesthoods 
are  represented  as  "  daily  ministering,  and  offering 
oftentimes  the  same  sacrifices,"  it  is  expressly  said 
that  "  we  are  sanctified  through  the  offering  of  the 
body  of  Jesus  Christ,  once  for  ally 

In  order  to  understand  the  sacrificial  language  of 
the  New  Testament  in  its  application  to  Christ,  we 
must  bear  in  mind  that  Christianity  is  not  merely  an 
absolute  religion,  that  is,  a  religion  all  whose  doc- 
trines, when  rightly  construed,  are  absolutely  true; 


6  THE  MEDIATOR. 

but  also  an  historical  religion.  Christianity  did  not 
spring  into  being  having  no  connections  with  the 
past :  like  every  other  great  revolution,  it  has  its 
place  in  history,  and  its  historical  antecedents,  out 
of  which  it  grew,  to  which  it  is  accommodated,  and 
without  reference  to  which  it  can  neither  be  compre- 
hended nor  explained.  Historically  considered,  the 
New  Testament  stands  related  to  the  Old  as  the  ful- 
filling of  the  Law,  as  the  accomplishment  of  the 
prophecies,  as  the  final  realization  of  what  was  but 
'^  a  shadow  of  good  things  to  come,"  —  the  gospel  of 
Moses  became  the  gospel  of  Christ.  Accordingly,  al- 
most all  its  doctrines  and  institutions,  almost  all  its 
modes  of  religious  thought  and  religious  expression, 
are  at  bottom  Jewish,  with  only  such  modifications 
in  terms  or  sense,  or  both,  as  fitted  them  to  become 
the  exponents  of  a  universal  and  spiritual  dispensa- 
tion. Now  one  of  the  fundamental  ideas  in  the 
Hebrew  ritual  is,  that  the  people  are  not  in  a  con- 
dition to  approach  their  God,  without  first  going 
through  a  process  of  purification  and  reconciliation 
by  means  of  oblations  and  sacrifices  ;  and  that  this 
process  is  to  be  renewed  day  by  day,  and  year  by 
year.  Such  was  the  Jewish  idea,  and  it  reappears 
in  the  Gospel,  carried  out  and  fulfilled  under  a 
Christian  form,  in  the  doctrine  that  whatever  was 
understood  to  be  done  for  "a  peculiar  people "  by 
the  sacrifices  and   oblations   of  the  Old  Testament, 


THE  MEDIATOR.  7 

is  now  done  for  all  mankind,  and  once  for  all,  by 
the  self-sacrifice  of  Christ.  Through  his  sole  media- 
tion, that  is  to  say,  by  his  teachings  and  sufferings, 
by  his  life  and  death,  he  has  broken  down  forever 
the  legal  and  ritual  impediments  which  were  thought 
to  separate  man  from  his  Maker,  and  thus  opened 
a  way  of  access  to  the  Father  "  once  for  all."  By 
a  new  and  far  more  sublime  revelation  of  grace 
and  truth,  and  spiritual  freedom,  he  has  opened  to 
the  whole  world  a  door  of  access  to  the  Mercy- 
Seat,  and  left  it  open ;  and,  blessed  be  God,  it  is  a 
door  which  no  man,  or  body  of  men,  can  shut. 

Another  circumstance  distinguishing  Christ's  me- 
diation is,  that  it  aims  to  dispense  with  the  neces- 
sity for  all  further  mediation,  by  bringing  God  and 
man  together^  and  making  them  one.  Our  Lord's 
words  are :  "  That  they  all  may  be  one ;  as  thou, 
Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  that  they  also 
may  be  one  in  us."  With  the  mediating  priests 
and  prophets  of  antiquity  it  was  not  so.  What  they 
in  general  undertook  to  do  was  merely  to  open 
between  God  and  men  a  kind  of  distant  communi- 
cation or  correspondence,  by  bearing  to  the  former 
the  offerings  and  requests  of  the  latter,  and  bringing 
back  the  response.  But  Christ  has  done  more. 
As  the  one  Mediator  he  has  opened,  once  for  all, 
not  only  a  way  of  communication  with  the  Father, 
but  a  way  of  access  to  Him,  —  that  "  new  and  living 


8  THE  MEDIATOR. 

way "  by  which,  instead  of  sending^  we  go.  It  is 
the  privilege,  the  distinction,  the  glory  of  Chris- 
tians, that  they  have  personal,  direct,  immediate  ac- 
cess to  the  Father.  I  do  not  mean  to  deny  that  we 
owe  this  doctrine  to  Clirist,  —  in  other  words,  that 
all  is  through  him.  Nay,  more,  I  do  not  mean  to 
deny  the  continued  presence  and  agency  of  Christ 
in  the  Church ;  nor  that  "  he  ever  liveth  to  make 
intercession  for  us;"  —  all  this,  nevertheless,  is  not 
that  he  may  still  stand  between  God  and  man,  in 
the  sense  of  keeping  them  apart,  but  that  he  may 
bring  them  together,  and  make  them  one.  "  By 
whom,"  as  our  common  version  of  the  Bible  renders 
it,  "we  have  now  received  the  atonement," — that 
is,  the  al-one-ment,  or  the  being  at  one. 

Thus  far  I  have  spoken  of  obvious  and  striking 
points  of  difference  between  the  Christian  notion  of  a 
mediator,  and  the  pagan  or  Jewish  notion.  But  the 
question  may  here  suggest  itself  to  some  minds, 
Why  any  mediator  ? 

In  answering  this  question,  I  think  it  neither  wise 
nor  reverent  to  lay  much  stress  on  arguments  drawn 
from  human  conceptions  of  the  Divine  nature  and 
government.  For  example :  there  are  those  who 
think  it  enough  to  say  that  God  cannot  forgive  sin, 
however  sincerely  repented  of,  or  receive  the  re- 
pentant and  reclaimed  sinner  into  favor,  without  a 
mediator;  that  is   to   say,   he  cannot   do  it  freely. 


THE  MEDIATOR.  9 

and  of  his  own  accord.  But  why  not  ?  I  certainly 
can  see  no  reason  why  he  could  not,  if  he  ivould ; 
indeed,  I  cannot  see  any  reason  why  he  would  not. 
All  such  confident  assertion  on  the  part  of  philoso- 
phers and  theologians  as  to  what  God  can  do,  or 
cannot  do,  resting  on  no  better  authority  than  their 
imperfect  conceptions  of  the  Divine  attributes,  must 
be  extremely  distasteful  to  serious  minds ;  and  be- 
sides, it  comes,  let  me  add,  with  an  ill  grace  from 
those  who  on  other  occasions  are  among  the  fore- 
most to  condemn  the  use  of  reason  in  rehgion,  and 
especially  in  speaking  of  God. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  can  as  httle  agree  with 
those  who  think  it  an  argument  against  the  use 
and  necessity  of  a  mediator,  that  God  is  immutable 
and  impassible,  and  therefore  cannot  be  changed  in 
his  purposes  respecting  man  by  what  a  third  per- 
son can  say  or  do;  and  furthermore,  that  he  is 
essentially  merciful,  and  always  ready  to  forgive, 
and  therefore  needs  no  change.  For,  in  the  first 
place,  if  we  beheve  in  the  proper  efiicacy  of  prayer, 
we  must  not  make  God  immutable  and  impassible 
in  such  a  sense  that  he  cannot  be  affected  by 
Christ's  intercessions-  in  our  behalf ;  and  again,  if 
we  believe  God  to  be  a  moral  being,  we  must  also 
believe  him  to  be  moved  by  the  spectacle  of  Christ's 
sufferings.  Add  to  this  what  we  know  of  God's 
providence  in  this  world.  Are  we  not  continually 
1* 


10  THE  IVIEDIATOK. 

thanking  Him  for  blessings,  which,  however,  we  do 
not  receive  from  him  directly,  but  through  "media- 
tors," that  is,  through  the  instrumentality  of  others? 
Accordingly,  I  cannot  see  anything  unphilosophical, 
or  improbable,  or  contrary  to  experience,  in  the 
doctrine  that  we  are  indebted  for  many  hopes  and 
privileges  to  Christ's  mediation,  and  to  the  effect 
of  this  mediation  on   God. 

Even,  however,  if  it  were  not  so,  it  would  not 
materially  affect  the  question  at  issue.  You  are 
aware  that  the  reconciliation  to  be  brought  about 
by  the  mediation  of  Christ  is  everywhere  repre- 
sented in  the  New  Testament  as  a  reconciliation 
of  man  to  God,  and  not  of  God  to  man.  Thus  it 
is  said,  "  God  hath  reconciled  us  to  himself  by  Je- 
sus Christ."  And  again,  "  For  if  when  we  were 
enemies  we  were  reconciled  unto  God  by  the  death 
of  his  Son,  much  more,  being  reconciled,  we  shall 
be  saved  by  his  life."  The  question,  therefore,  is 
not  whether  God  needed  a  mediator,  but  whether 
man  needed  one.  When  the  Scriptures  speak  of 
the  necessity  and  use  of  Christ's  mediation,  it  is 
always  with  reference  to  its  benefits  to  mankind, 
and  especially  to  mankind  in  the  condition  in  which 
they  were  at  his  coming. 

What  then  are  some  of  these  benefits  ? 

It  is  common  to  mention  in  this  connection  the 
outward  and  public  benefits  which  are  to  be  referred 


THE  MEDIATOE.  11 

to  Christ,  as  a  great  Teacher  and  Reformei .  Chris- 
tianity, as  I  suppose  all  will  admit,  is  a  manifest 
improvement  on  the  religions  which  preceded  it, — 
an  onward  step  in  human  progress.  Modern  civili- 
zation has  grown  out  of  it.  Here,  then,  are  great 
and  manifest  benefits  in  which  the  whole  commu- 
nity share  at  this  moment,  believers  and  unbelievers. 
And  be  not  misled  by  this  statement.  Some  may 
think  to  argue  from  it,  that  if  these  benefits  are 
now  shared  by  unbelievers,  they  do  not  require  that 
Christ  should  be  accepted  as  a  proper  Mediator, 
and  ought  not,  therefore,  to  be  taken  into  the  ac- 
count. But  there  is  a  fallacy  here.  You  might 
just  as  well  say,  that  because  the  solution  of  a 
difficult  problem  requires  no  study  now^  having 
become  part  of  the  common  sense  of  the  age,  it  re- 
quired none  in  the  beginning.  We  are  tracing  these 
outward  and  public  benefits  of  Christianity  to  their 
source.  And,  viewed  in  this  light,  is  it  not  plain  that 
the  benefits  of  the  institution  presuppose  the  estab- 
lishment and  prevalence  of  the  institution,  —  which 
never  could  have  been  except  on  condition  of  faith 
in  the  proper  mediatorship  of  Christ  ?  All,  there- 
fore, is  to  be  looked  upon  as  the  fruit  of  this  faith, 
though  now  enjoyed,  to  a  certain  extent,  by  those 
who  reject  the  faith. 

Consider  next  the   inward  and   'personal  benefits 
resulting  from  the   mediation   of  Christ,  which   al- 


12  THE  MEDIATOR. 

ways  suppose  faith  in  the  participant.  In  a  com- 
munity nominally  Christian,  where  all  enjoy  the 
outward  and  public  benefits  of  Christianity,  what 
advantage  have  those  of  us  who  believe  in  a  Media- 
tor over  deists  and  sceptics  who  do  not  ? 

In  the  first  place,  we  not  only  have  a  Teacher 
who  approves  himself  to  our  judgment,  but  one 
who  came  from  God,  speaking  to  us  in  the  name 
of  God.  Here  the  question  is  not,  whether  we 
really  have  a  Mediator  acting  in  this  capacity,  but 
whether  it  is  not  well  to  have  one,  and  to  be  as- 
sured of  it.  I  am  not  now  discussing  the  evidences 
of  Christianity ;  I  am  simply  answering  the  inquiry, 
Why  have  a  Mediator  ?  If  we  had  one,  what  would 
be  gained  thereby  ?  Certainly  it  is  something  to 
know  on  authority  what  is  God's  will  and  purpose 
respecting  us.  On  this  point  there  can  certainly  be 
but  one  opinion.  You  cannot  find  a  single  serious 
and  thoughtful  unbeliever,  far  or  near,  who  would 
not  consider  it  a  great  thing  to  have  his  guesses 
respecting  God,  eternity,  and  the  human  soul  turned 
into  well-authenticated  facts.  Intimations  are  some- 
times thrown  out,  as  if  the  doctrine  of  a  revelation 
through  a  Mediator,  though  useful  and  perhaps  in- 
dispensable in  the  early  ages  of  the  world,  is  gradu- 
ally becoming  obsolete,  or  at  least  comparatively 
unnecessary.  But  it  is  not  so.  A  change  in  rela- 
tion to  this  matter  there  obviously  is.      What  was 


THE  MEDIATOR.  13 

most  wanted  in  the  beginning  was  information; 
what  is  most  wanted  now  is  evidence; — not  that 
we  may  be  saved  from  our  errors,  but  from  our 
doubts.  The  need,  therefore,  though  not  precisely 
the  same,  is  nevertheless  just  as  real,  and  just  as 
great,  now  as  formerly. 

And  this  is  not  all.  The  Christian  doctrine  of  the 
Mediator  is,  "that  God  was  in  Christ  reconciling 
the  world  unto  himself."  "  The  Word  was  made 
flesh,  and  dwelt  among  us."  Unhappily  the  Church 
has  taken  this  mystery  of  the  incarnation,  which  as 
a  mystery  means  a  great  deal,  and  turned  it  into 
an  unintelligible  dogma,  which  means  nothing.  The 
Bible  never  speaks  of  two  natures  in  Christ,  or  of 
his  being  God  and  man  at  the  same  time  ;  but  it 
represents  him  again  and  again  as  being  a  mani- 
festation of  God,  —  "the  brightness  of  his  glory,  and 
the  express  image  of  his  person."  And  this  view, 
this  conviction,  has  important  practical  bearings,  and 
never  more  so  than  in  the  existing  state  of  the 
highest  human  thought.  It  is  not  enough  consid- 
ered that  we  have  no  proper  manifestation  of  the 
Living  God  except  in  Jesus  Christ.  We  are  some- 
times said  to  see  God  in  nature  ;  but  it  is  not  so, 
even  figuratively;  we  do  not  see  Hint  there,  we 
only  see  his  footprints,  —  we  see  where  he  has  been. 
We  do  not  see  in  the  material  universe  the  Divine 
wisdom    and    goodness,   we   only   see  their   effects; 


14  THE   MEDIATOK. 

but  in  Christ  we  see  the  quahties  themselves.  We 
see,  therefore,  in  Christ  what  we  worship  in  God ; 
so  that,  without  confounding  them  together,  we  can 
worship  God  in  and  through  Christ.  To  some 
minds  the  distinction  here  insisted  on  may  seem 
less  unique  and  significant,  because  other  men  are 
also  said  in  Scripture  to  be  "  made  after  the  simili- 
tude of  God."  But  this  similitude,  when  applied 
to  men  in  general,  relates  to  capacities^  not  to  at- 
tainments ;  to  what  they  might  become,  not  to  what 
they  do  become.  It  is  still  as  true  as  ever,  that 
Christ  is  the  only  being  in  whom  it  has  pleased 
the  Father  that  "  all  fulness  should  dwell." 

At  the  same  time,  it  is  this  very  fact,  namely, 
that  the  Divine  Presence  is  vouchsafed  to  us  in 
a  person  of  capacities  like  our  own,  which  consti- 
tutes the  peculiar  fitness  of  the  Christian  Mediator. 
What  do  men  want  ?  Not  a  confounding  together, 
but  a  coming  together,  of  God  and  man,  a  meeting, 
if  I  may  so  express  it,  half-way,  to  be  attended  by 
the  double  benefit  of  bringing  God  down,  so  that 
he  can  be  included  within  the  scope  of  human 
sympathies,  and  lifting  man  up,  so  that  he  can  be- 
come a  partaker  of  the  Divine  holiness.  Add  to 
this,  that  by  recognizing  God  in  Christ  we  are  natu- 
rally led  to  contemplate  and  approach  the  Infinite 
One  under  the  aspect  of  his  personal  qualities  and 
relations ;  by  which  we  may  hope   that  the  strong 


THE  MEDIATOR.  15 

pantheistic  tendency  of  modern  thouglit  will  be  coun- 
teracted. Science,  with  the  ever  enlarging  sweep  of 
its  generalizations,  is  reducing  all  to  order  and 
unity ;  and  the  danger  is,  that  men  will  stop  there, 
that,  filled  with  the  spirit  of  science,  and  not  with 
the  spirit  of  faith  and  love,  they  will  fall  down 
and  worship  Order  and  Unity ;  at  any  rate,  that  a 
vague  notion  of  a  Pantheistic  Mind,  or  of  a  so- 
called  "  Soul  of  the  Universe,"  may  take  the  place 
of  a  belief  in  the  living  and  true  God.  Hence,  I 
insist,  the  necessity,  and  the  growing  necessity,  of  a 
Divine  Mediator,  whose  very  coming  reveals  God  to 
us,  not  as  the  order  of  the  universe,  but  as  its  con- 
scious Source  and  Lord,  —  a  Divine  Mediator  through 
whom  this  God  is  continually  pleading  with  us  to 
be  reconciled  to  him,  not  merely  as  order  and  law, 
but  as  a  loving  Father. 

One  question  more.  Supposing  it  to  be  conceded 
that  we  need  a  Mediator,  and  such  a  Mediator  as 
has  been  described,  why  also  a  suffering  Mediator? 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  language  used  in 
the  New  Testament,  and  especially  in  the  Epistle 
to  the  Hebrews,  in  speaking  of  the  sacrificial  im- 
port of  Christ's  sufferings  and  death,  must  be  inter- 
preted with  a  constant  reference  to  Jewish  institu- 
tions and  modes  of  thought.  Accordingly,  where 
no  regard  is  paid  to  this  caution,  we  must  expect 
that  texts  true  in  a  literal  sense  will  often  be  mixed 


16  THE  MEDIATOR. 

up  with  texts  true  in  a  figurative  sense,  from  which 
inferences  will  be  drawn  not  true  in  any  sense. 
Still,  it  is  no  purpose  of  mine  to  detract  aught 
from  the  merit  or  the  significance  of  Christ's  suffer- 
ings, undergone,  directly  or  indirectly,  for  our  sal- 
vation. 

Consider,  first,  their  effect  on  the  Mediator  him- 
self. "  For  it  became  Him,  for  whom  are  all  things, 
and  by  whom  are  all  things,  in  bringing  many  sons 
unto  glory,  to  make  the  Captain  of  their  salvation 
perfect  through  sufferings."  It  is  a  narrow  and 
low  view  of  the  purposes  of  our  being,  which  makes 
it  a  wonder,  or  a  perplexity,  that  the  good  should 
suffer.  In  this  way  the  good  are  made  better ;  nay,  it 
is  only  in  this  way  that  the  great  virtues  of  a  brave 
endurance,  and  a  noble  self-sacrifice,  can  be  won, 
or  the  serene  and  unearthly  peace  and  joy  which 
these  virtues  alone  can  inspire.  Accordingly,  in 
reading  the  narrative  of  the  Evangelists,  I  think 
we  can  see  evidence  of  our  Lord's  character  be- 
coming more  gentle  and  tender  and  self-sacrificing 
under  the  discipline  of  hardship  and  sorrow.  At 
any  rate,  we  must  admit  the  fact,  for  it  is  ex- 
pressly asserted  by  the  Apostle ;  he  was  made  per- 
fect by  suffering,  thereby  showing  that  even  his 
wonderful  life  is  no  exception  to  the  law  which 
makes  the  baptism  of  Christian  goodness  to  be  a 
baptism,  not  of  water,  but  "  of  the  Holy  Spirit  and 
of  fire." 


THE  MEDIATOK.  17 

Consider,  also,  the  moral  power  which  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  Mediator  have  given  him  over  his  follow- 
ers, and  over  the  world.  We  lay  stress  on  his 
miracles,  and  Divine  authority,  and  perfect  charac- 
ter ;  and  we  do  well,  for  all  these  are  essential  to 
the  completeness  of  our  idea  of  one  who  is  to  lead 
us  to  God.  These  give  the  right  to  reign :  after 
all,  however,  it  is  the  thought  that  he  voluntarily 
bowed  himself  to  pain,  indignity,  and  death  for 
our  sakes,  which  actually  enthrones  him  in  the  hearts 
of  men.  Tliere  are  those  who  will  question  his 
miracles,  demur  at  his  authority,  mock  his  virtues ; 
but  never  one  who  can  be  made  to  see  and  enter 
into  the  nature  and  extent  and  spirit  of  his  suffer- 
ings and  sacrifices,  without  being  touched  and 
melted  by  the  appeal.  It  is  thus  that  "  through 
his  poverty  we  are  made  rich." 

If  I  were  to  stop  here,  enough  has  already  been 
said  to  vindicate  the  ways  of  God,  in  appointing  a 
Mediator  who  can  be  touched  by  a  sense  of  our 
infirmities,  —  "a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted 
with  grief."  But  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  the 
general  tenor  of  the  New  Testament  teacliings  on 
this  subject,  and  the  moral  and  religious  instincts 
of  the  human  heart,  go  further.  They  testify  to  the 
fact,  that  heaven  as  well  as  earth  is  moved  by  the 
spectacle  of  such  sufferings,  endured  by  so  holy  a 
being,  and  from  such  love.      I  have  nothing  to  do 


18  THE  MEDIATOK. 

here  with  dogmas  which  have  been  fiercely  con- 
tested in  the  Church.  I  do  not  say  that  these 
sufferings  were  necessary  to  make  God  placable  ;  for 
this  would  seem  to  imply  that  he  had  been  impla- 
cable before.  I  do  not  say  that  they  are  neces- 
sary to  make  repentance  and  reformation  available  ; 
for  it  seems  to  me,  that  all  justice  is  satisfied  on 
sincere  repentance  and  real  reformation  except  vin- 
dictive justice,  —  the  justice  of  retaliation  or  revenge. 
But  this  I  say,  with  all  reverence  and  humility ; 
a  compassionate  God  may  be,  and  I  believe  is, 
made  more  compassionate  still  by  the  intercessions 
of  such  a  Mediator  for  the  frail  and  erring  beings 
whom  he  is  said,  in  the  emphatic  language  of  Scrip- 
ture, to  have  redeemed,  ransomed,  bought  by  his 
own  blood. 

You  may  insist  that  this  whole  subject  is  in- 
volved in  mystery,  and  that  you  are  tired  of  mys- 
tery. But  you  cannot  get  rid  of  mystery,  even  if 
you  would ;  it  attaches  to  every  point  of  the  higher 
life  in  man  ;  life  itself  is  a  mystery,  and  death  a 
still  greater  mystery.  And  besides,  do  not  object 
to  mystery  from  confounding  it  with  what  is  not 
mystery.  A  mystery,  as  that  term  is  here  used, 
is  not  an  unintelligible  proposition,  or  a  proposition 
of  any  kind.  It  is  a  fact  comprehended  but  in 
part,  —  half  understood,  and  half  not  understood. 
That  part  which  we   cannot  understand,   we  leave 


THE  MEDIATOR.  19 

with  the  secret  things  which  belong  to  the  Lord 
our  God ;  that  part  which  we  can  understand  we 
use  for  instruction  and  edification ;  and  it  teaches 
us  in  this  case,  "  that  God  was  in  Christ,  recon- 
ciling the  world  unto  himself,  not  imputing  their 
trespasses  unto  them;  and  hath  committed  unto  us 
the  word  of  reconciliation.  Now  then  we  are  am- 
bassadors for  Christ;  as  though  God  did  beseech 
you  by  us,  we  pray  you  in  Christ's  stead,  be  ye 
reconciled  to  God." 


THE    EYEELASTING    GOSPEL 


UPON   THIS   EOCK   I   WILL  BUILD   MY   CHURCH;    AND   THE   GATES   OP 
HELL   SHALL  NOT   PREVAIL  AGAINST   IT.  —  Matthew  XVi.  18. 


Vicissitude,  we  often  say,  and  with  the  daily 
proof  of  it  before  our  eyes,  is  stamped  on  all  earthly 
things.  Is  it  so  with  Christianity  ?  Customs  and  in- 
stitutions, dynasties  and  nations,  systems  of  govern- 
ment, systems  of  philosophy,  and  systems  of  religion, 
have  passed  away,  or  are  passing  away.  Have  we 
any  reason  to  believe,  or  to  fear,  that  Christianity 
must  also  submit  to  the  same  law? 

This  is  not  a  new  question.  John  the  Baptist, 
having  been  left  to  languish  in  prisan  for  several 
months,  sent  two  of  his  disciples  to  Jesus  with  the 
inquiry,  "  Art  thou  He  that  should  come,  or  do  we 
look  for  another  ? "  A  momentary  cloud  of  de- 
spondency would  seem  to  have  passed  over  the  mind 
of  our  Lord  himself  when  he  said,  "  Nevertheless, 
when  the  Son  of  Man  cometh,  shall  he  find  faith 
on  the  earth  ?  "  And  so  with  many  of  his  sincere 
followers   in    all    ages.     They   have    not   begun   by 


THE   E^^:ELASTIXG   GOSPEL.  21 

doubting  the  Divine  origin  of  Christianity,  or  its 
essential  reasonableness,  or  its  moral  beauty  and  sub- 
limity, or  its  unspeakable  importance  in  a  practical 
point  of  view.  Their  distrust,  their  misgivings,  have 
had  another  origin.  They  have  looked  —  and,  as  they 
thought,  in  vain,  or  almost  in  vain  —  for  the  prom- 
ised and  expected  fruit.  Nearly  two  thousand  years 
have  elapsed  since  angelic  voices  chanted  the  hymn : 
^'  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace, 
good-will  toward  men."  A  cry  was  also  heard : 
"  Repent,  for  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  is  at  hand.'''' 
Nearly  two  thousand  years,  —  a  long  period,  even 
for  the  unfolding  of  such  issues ;  yet  what  do  we 
see.  Is  the  promise  fulfilled  ?  Is  the  prophecy  ac- 
complished ?  Individuals,  no  doubt,  can  here  and 
there  be  found,  who  are  penetrated  and  filled  with 
the  Christian  spirit;  but  when  we  look  at  society  at 
large,  when  we  look  at  what  is  called  the  Christian 
world,  where  is  the  nation,  where  is  the  commu- 
nity, where  is  the  party  or  the  sect,  which  as  a 
whole,  or  even  generally,  is  Christian  except  in 
name?  Can  we  wonder,  then,  that  good  men,  dis- 
couraged and  disheartened  by  the  slow  progress  of 
things,  and  by  the  ill  success  of  many  a  well-devised 
plan  of  improvement  or  reform,  should  sometimes  be 
tempted  to  fear  that  Christianity  itself,  at  least  in 
much  that  was  expected  from  it,  may  turn  out  a 
failure,  —  in  short,  that  it  has  had  its  day  ? 


22  THE   EVERLASTING    GOSPEL. 

The  common  argument  to  prove  the  groundless- 
ness of  this  fear  may  be  stated  in  a  few  words. 
Christianity  is  the  truth,  and  truth  is  indestructible ; 
nay,  as  knowledge  increases,  all  minds  must  by  neces- 
sity gravitate  towards  it.  Moreover,  Christianity  is 
of  Divine  origin,  and  is  founded  on  miracles.  We 
must  presume,  therefore,  that  the  same  Almighty 
Being  who  founded  it  will  continue  to  uphold  it, 
even  though  miracles  should  again  be  necessary  for 
that  purpose ;  especially  as  we  have  express  as- 
surance in  the  text  to  the  same  effect :  "  Upon 
this  Rock  I  will  build  my  Church ;  and  the  gates 
of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  it." 

Now  it  is  no  part  of  my  plan  to  call  in  question 
the  soundness  of  this  argument ;  much  less,  that 
of  the  conclusion  to  which  it  leads.  Still  there  are 
two  considerations  which  make  it  proper  not  to  rest 
in  this  argument,  but  to  pursue  the  investigation  a 
little  further. 

In  the  first  place,  what  is  here  said  of  Chris- 
tianity may  also  be  said,  with  little  or  no  abate- 
ment, of  Judaism.  Judaism  is  understood  to  be  of 
Divine  origin,  and,  in  so  far  as  it  is  so,  the  truth. 
Moreover,  the  old  revelation  is  understood  to  be 
founded  on  miracles,  as  well  as  the  new ;  and  the 
promise  that  it  should  be  perpetual  is  quite  as  ex- 
plicit, and  more  frequent.  Thus,  to  Abraham: 
"  And  I  will  establish  my  covenant  between  me  and 


THE  EVERLASTING   GOSPEL.  23 

thee,  and  thy  seed  after  thee,  in  their  generations, 
for  an  everlasting  covenant,  to  be  a  God  unto  thee, 
and  to  thy  seed  after  thee ;  and  I  will  give  unto 
thee,  and  to  thy  seed  after  thee,  the  land  wherein 
thou  art  a  stranger,  and  all  the  land  of  Canaan, 
for  an  everlasting  possession.^^  This  promise  is  re- 
newed again  and  again  to  Moses  and  Aaron,  and 
afterwards  by  the  mouth  of  the  prophets,  in  such 
words  as  these :  "  Thy  people  also  shall  be  all  right- 
eous ;  they  shall  inherit  the  land  forever. ''''  And 
again :  "  The  Lord  shall  reign  over  them  in  Mount 
Zion  from  henceforth^  even  for  ever. ''''  I  am  aware 
of  the  turn  given  to  these  passages  by  the  commen- 
tators. They  say,  and  no  doubt  truly,  that  this 
promise  was  made  with  a  tacit  understanding,  with 
an  implied  condition ;  namely,  that  the  Jews  should 
be  faithful  on  their  part.  The  promise,  therefore, 
has  not  been  broken ;  for  though  it  has  failed,  it 
has  been  through  the  unfaithfulness  of  the  Jews. 
Be  it  so.  Why  then  may  not  the  same  thing 
happen  in  respect  to  Christianity  ?  God,  of  course, 
will  not  break  any  of  his  promises  ;  nevertheless,  may 
not  the  promise  of  perpetuity  fail  under  the  new 
covenant,  as  we  know  it  did  under  the  old,  and 
for  the  same  reason,  —  because  an  implied  condition 
has  not  been  fulfilled,  or,  in  other  words,  through 
the  unfaithfulness  of  Christians  ? 

A  second  reason  for  not  restino:  content  with  the 


24  THE   EVERLASTING   GOSPEL. 

bare  statement  of  the  argument,  as  given  above,  is 
found  in  the  natural  desire  to  strengthen  and  for- 
tify our  faith,  though  founded  on  acknowledged  Di- 
vine authority,  by  proofs  and  illustrations  drawn 
fi'om  other  sources.  How  many  sermons  have  been 
preached  to  Christian  congregations  in  order  to  con- 
vince men  of  the  efficacy  of  prayer,  or  of  a  life  to 
come  !  Yet  all  know  that  both  these  doctrines  are 
expressly  taught  in  the  Scriptures ;  and  all  believe, 
or  profess  to  believe,  that  the  Scriptures  are  the 
Word  of  God.  In  such  cases  we  are  far  from  thinking 
that  faith  can  be  dispensed  with ;  in  respect  to  many 
things  we  must  "walk  by  faith,  not  by  sight,"  and 
the  more  entire  and  unreserved  this  faith,  the  better. 
Still,  it  unquestionably  gives  new  force  and  vivacity 
to  what  we  believe  on  authority,  even  though  it  be 
on  the  highest  authority,  if  we  can  be  made  to  see 
that  what  we  thus  believe  on  authority  falls  in  also 
with  what  we  know  by  our  own  reason  and  expe- 
rience. As  regards  practical  e^ect,  quite  as  much 
depends  on  its  seeming'  to  be  a  fact,  as  on  our 
believing  it  to  be  a  fact;  on  its  verisimilitude,  as 
on  its  truth. 

It  is,  therefore,  from  no  distrust  of  the  authority 
of  Scripture,  but  for  other  reasons,  that  we  would 
push  the  inquiry  a  little  further,  and  ask  whether 
there  is  not  something  in  the  very  nature  of  Chris- 
tianity,  and  peculiar   to   it,  to   reassure   us  that  it 


THE   EVEELASTING   GOSPEL.  25 

will  never  be  destroyed  by  the  prevalence  of  irre- 
ligion,  nor  supplanted  by  any  other  religion  pur- 
porting to  be  truer  or  more  Divine. 

In  the  first  place,  if  we  attentively  consider  the 
essential  nature  of  Christianity,  we  can  hardly  fail 
to  be  struck  with  one  remarkable  peculiarity.  Un- 
like every  other  historical  and  authoritative  religion, 
not  excepting  Judaism,  it  is  neither  a  political  con- 
stitution, nor  a  prescribed  ritual,  nor  a  doctrinal 
system,  nor  a  code  of  laws ;  but  a  body  of  prin- 
ciples, to  act  as  the  unfolding  germs  of  a  higher 
type  of  moral  and  spiritual  life.  Neither  the  pur- 
pose nor  the  tendency  of  these  principles  is  to  ar- 
rest society  at  any  stage  of  its  progress,  but  rather 
to  help  on  that  progress  indefinitely, — partaking 
of  the  progress  themselves,  inasmuch  as,  though  the 
principles  remain  the  same,  they  will  be  better  and 
better  understood,  and  more  and  more  wisely  applied. 

Let  me  explain  what  I  mean  ;  and  first,  as  re- 
gards worship,  including  all  those  duties  and  hopes 
which  spring  out  of  our  immediate  relations  to 
God,  and  our  direct  intercourse  with  Him.  You 
know  how  it  was,  in  this  respect,  with  the  great 
historical  religions  which  preceded  Christianity, — 
the  religions  of  India,  of  Egypt,  of  Greece,  of  Rome. 
Each  consisted,  for  the  most  part,  of  an  outward 
ceremonial,  the  details  of  which  were  appointed  and 
regulated  to  the  minutest  particular  by  law  or  cus- 

2 


26  THE  EVERLASTING   GOSPEL. 

torn,  and  any  departure  therefrom,  whether  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously,  was  looked  upon  as  more 
likely  than  anything  else  to  incense  the  gods. 
Were  their  armies  routed  and  slain  by  the  enemy, 
was  there  evil  in  the  city,  was  there  famine  or 
pestilence,  the  excited  imagination  of  the  people 
was  almost  sure  to  charge  it  upon  some  change  or 
some  neglect  in  the  sacred  rites.  The  same  is  true 
to  a  considerable  extent  of  Judaism,  as  every  one 
must  see  on  turning  over  the  pages  of  the  Levitical 
code  ;  neither  is  it  any  objection  to  a  religion  in- 
tended to  be  preparatory,  and  therefore  to  pass 
away,  or  be  superseded  by  another.  But  in  the 
New  Testament  an  essentially  different  view  of 
worship  is  inculcated.  "  Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Wo- 
man, believe  me,  the  hour  cometh  when  ye  shall 
neither  in  this  mountain,  nor  yet  at  Jerusalem^ 
worship  the  Father.  Ye  worship  ye  know  not  what : 
we  know  what  we  worship ;  for  salvation  is  of  the 
Jews.  But  the  hour  cometh,  and  now  is,  when  the 
true  worshippers  shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit 
and  in  truth  :  for  the  Father  seeketh  such  to  worship 
him.  God  is  a  spirit ;  and  they  that  worship  him 
must  worship  him  in  spirit  and  in  truth."  Ac- 
cordingly, the  triumph  of  Christianity  is  not  to  be 
regarded  merely  as  the  triumph  of  one  ritual  over 
another  ritual ;  it  is  the  triumph  of  religion  over 
all  rituals,  except  in  so  far  as  one  or  another  may 


THE  EVERLASTING  GOSPEL.  27 

be  tliouglit  useful  for  the  decencies  and  conven- 
iences of  worship  in  a  particular  church.  Under 
Christianity,  the  place,  the  time,  the  outward  form, 
are  nothing  in  themselves  considered  ;  it  is  enough 
if  the  worship  is  true  and  spiritual,  these  words  to 
be  interpreted  according  to  the  highest  conceptions 
of  tlie  true  and  the  spiritual  that  shall,  at  any 
time,  have  been  attained. 

Turning  next  to  the  ethical,  as  distinguished 
from  the  devotional,  element  in  Christianity,  the 
same  peculiarity  reappears.  In  the  primitive  and 
preparatory  religions,  morality  is  taught  almost  ex- 
clusively, when  it  is  taught  at  all,  in  the  form  of 
certain  outward  actions  enjoined,  and  certain  other 
outward  actions  forbidden.  The  morality  of  the 
Mosaic  dispensation,  an  admirable  summary  of  which 
is  given  in  the  Ten  Commandments,  is  of  this  kind. 
Scarcely  a  word  is  said  in  that  compend  about  in- 
ward principles  and  dispositions,  or  about  virtues 
and  vices,  as  such;  but  the  people  are  expressly 
told  what  to  do,  and  what  not  to  do;  —  doubtless 
the  best  and  only  practicable  course  to  be  taken  in 
a  rude  age.  In  the  more  spiritual  tone  of  the  later 
prophets  we  behold  the  morning  twilight  of  a  better 
day ;  which  they  foretold,  and  to  some  extent  an- 
ticipated, as  one  when  God  would  "  put  his  law  in 
men's  inward  parts,  and  write  it  on  their  hearts." 
And  that  day  has  come.     Of  course  you  will  under- 


28  THE  EVERLASTING   GOSPEL. 

stand  me  to  speak  in  this  connection  of  Christian 
morality ;  —  not  of  the  actual  morality  of  Christians, 
but  of  what  the  morality  of  Christians  ought  to  be 
according  to  the  Gospel. 

A  glance  at  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  es- 
{)ecially  at  the  Beatitudes  in  which  the  doctrine  and 
spirit  of  that  sermon  is  summed  up,  must  convince 
every  unprejudiced  mind,  that  we  have  here,  not 
merely  a  higher  cast  and  style  of  morality  than  had 
been  hitherto  known,  but  also  an  essentially  differ- 
ent manner  of  moral  inculcation.  The  stress  is  no 
longer  laid,  as  before,  on  the  outward  act,  or  the 
specific  and  arbitrary  rule,  but  on  the  purpose,  the 
intention,  the  thought.  The  outward  action  is  still 
as  important  as  ever ;  but  it  is  so,  in  a  moral  point 
of  view,  merely  because  it  expresses  or  involves 
some  good  or  bad  inward  principle  or  disposition. 
Accordingly,  under  the  Gospel,  the  moral  injunction 
is  laid  directly  on  the  inward  principle  or  dispo- 
sition :  in  other  words,  it  is  not  said,  as  it  was  "  to 
them  of  old  time,"  "  Thou  shalt  not  steal,"  "  Thou 
shalt  not  kill,"  "  Thou  shalt  not  bear  false  witness 
against  thy  neighbor ; "  but  rather,  "  Blessed  are 
the  meek,"  "  Blessed  are  the  merciful,"  "  Blessed 
are  the  pure  in  heart."  The  inward  principle  or 
disposition  is  insisted  on,  and  each  individual  is  ex- 
pected and  required  to  manifest  the  same  in  such 
manner  as  the  highest  moral  and  spiritual  culture 


THE  EVERLASTING  GOSPEL.   '  29 

for  the  time  being  may  dictate  or  approve.  The 
merciful  man  of  to-day  may  live  up  to  a  higher 
conception  of  what  mercy  means  and  includes,  than 
the  merciful  man  of  five  centuries  ago ;  still  he  is 
but  a  merciful  man  after  all ;  he  does  no  more  than 
what  is  required ;  he  does  not,  and  he  cannot,  tran- 
scend or  outgrow  the  Christian  rule. 

Thus  does  Christianity,  as  regards  both  worship 
and  obedience,  link  itself  to  the  great  law  of  human 
progress,  and  partake  of  that  progress.  No  real  or 
possible  growth  of  society  and  the  human  mind  can 
ever  have  the  effect  to  outgrow  Christianity,  inas- 
much as  the  actual  Christianity  will  grow  along 
with  it.  I  do  not  mean  that  Christianity,  consid- 
ered in  itself,  can  ever  differ  from  what  it  is,  or 
from  what  it  was  in  the  beginning ;  but  the  actual 
Christianity  may,  —  nay,  m2/5^,  in  proportion  as  men 
understand  its  principles  better,  and  enter  more  en- 
tirely into  its  spirit. 

We  shall  also  arrive  at  the  same  general  conclu- 
sion, if,  instead  of  considering  the  kind  of  piety  and 
righteousness  inculcated  in  the  New  Testament,  we 
look  at  the  Example  we  are  to  follow,  or  at  the 
great  practical  authority  which  makes  imitation  of 
that  example  binding  on  the  soul. 

Cicero's  complaint  respecting  the  founders  of  pa- 
gan systems  of  .religion  and  pliilosophy  is  well 
known.     "  Who  is  there  among  them  all,"  he  asks, 


30  THE  EVERLASTING  GOSPEL. 

"  whose  practical  principles,  temper,  and  conduct 
were  conformable  to  right  reason  ?  Who  ever  re- 
garded his  philosophy  as  a  law  and  rule  of  life, 
and  not  rather  as  an  ostentation  of  his  ability  and 
learning  ?  Who  ever  obeyed  his  own  instructions, 
and  made  his  precepts  the  model  of  his  own  daily 
practice  ? "  But  with  Christ  it  is  not  so,  infidels 
themselves  being  the  judges.  By  universal  consent 
his  doctrine  and  life  are  one.  His  character  was 
a  living  impersonation  of  what  he  taught,  thus  be- 
coming of  the  nature  of  a  new  and  supplementary 
revelation,  because  it  shows  how  the  various  Chris- 
tian graces  should  exist  and  act  together,  qualify- 
ing each  other,  balancing  each  other,  complementing 
and  perfecting  each  other.  The  need  of  some  such 
authenticated  pattern  or  presentation  of  the  char- 
acter required,  not  in  its  separate  ingredients  but 
as  a  whole,  was  felt  long  before  the  coming  of 
Christ ;  and  the  Stoics  thought  to  supply  it  by  the 
fiction  of  what  they  called  their  Sage  or  Wise  Man. 
But  this  well-meant  expedient  failed  in  two  obvious 
particulars.  In  the  first  place,  their  Wise  Man  was 
not  a  reality,  having  authority  over  them,  but  a 
fiction  constructed  by  themselves ;  and  secondly, 
as  it  was  nothing  more  than  a  fanciful  embodiment 
of  the  doctrines  of  a  particular  sect  in  a  particular 
age,  it  was  sure  to  pass  away  with  the  age  and 
sect  which  gave  it  birth.     And  so  it  did. 


THE  EVERLASTING   GOSPEL.  31 

Widely  different  is  it  with  the  character  of  Christ, 
—  the  living,  the  absolute,  the  Divine  pattern  and 
standard  set  forth  in  the  Gospel.  This  might  be 
illustrated  in  a  thousand  ways ;  but  the  point  of 
distinction  to  which  alone  I  wish  to  call  your  at- 
tention now  is,  that  the  great  Christian  Exemplar 
can  never  become  obsolete,  can  never  lose  either 
its  use  or  its  authority. 

It  is  to  no  purpose  to  say  that  the  character  of 
Christ  is  what  it  is  ;  that  it  represents  a  fixed  quan- 
tity, a  stationary  object,  while  society  and  the  human 
mind  are  constantly  moving  on.  You  might  just 
as  well  say  the  same  of  Nature.  You  might  just 
as  well  say  that  Nature  is  what  it  is ;  that  it  repre- 
sents a  fixed  quantity,  a  stationary  object,  while 
society  and  the  human  mind  are  constantly  moving 
on.  But  does  Nature  ever  become  obsolete  ?  What 
become  obsolete  are  men^s  views  of  Nature ;  and 
these  become  so,  only  because  they  are  superseded 
and  displaced  by  juster  and  more  profound  views. 
So  it  is  with  the  character  of  Christ. 

What  more  perhaps  than  anything  else  distinguish- 
es the  believing  and  earnest  man  of  all  times  is  his 
aspiration  after  an  ideal  good,  an  inextinguishable 
longing  to  realize  his  conception  of  the  highest  and 
the  best.  Now  one  of  the  purposes  and  one  of  the 
effects  of  the  moral  character  exhibited  in  the  life 
of  Jesus   is    to   help    such    persons    not    merely    to 


32  THE  EVEELASTING   GOSPEL. 

realize  this  conception,  but  also  to  elevate  and 
purify  the  conception  itself,  inspiring  them  with  the 
idea  of  a  higher  highest,  and  of  a  better  best,  than 
they  could  have  unfolded  from  their  own  minds,  or 
from  any  merely  verbal  description.  And  this  is 
not  all.  Though  in  a  much  nobler  sense,  and  to 
much  more  exalted  issues,  it  is  the  same  with  the 
study  of  the  Christian  model  of  holiness  as  with 
the  study  of  the  finest  models  in  art.  Not  only 
are  susceptible  minds  excited  and  instructed  by  the 
first  impression  of  the  model,  but  by  the  continual 
study  of  it,  by  a  growing  familiarity  and  sympathy 
with  it,  they  are  able  to  see  more  and  more  in  the 
model  itself.  In  this  way  the  example  of  Christ, 
as  well  as  his  teachings,  his  life  as  well  as  his  word, 
becomes  not  merely  a  perpetual  revelation,  but  a 
perpetually  progressive  revelation,  forever  keeping 
pace  with  the  progressive  receptivities  of  those  to 
whom  it  is  addressed.  Let  the  world  grow  as  much 
wiser  as  it  may,  the  wisest  and  best  men  in  it  will 
always  be  among  the  foremost  to  acknowledge,  that 
"  God,  who  commanded  the  light  to  shine  out  of 
darkness,  has  shined  in  our  hearts,  to  give  the  light 
of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face 
of  Jesus  Christ." 

Meanwhile,  and  for  the  same  reason,  the  moral, 
the  practical  authority,  of  the  Gospel,  the  author- 
ity which  gives  effect  to  the  whole,  must  also  bo 
on  the  increase,  and  not  on  the  decline. 


THE   EVERLASTING    GOSPEL.  33 

When  men  refer  to  the  authority  on  which  Chris- 
tianity rests,  I  believe  they  commonly  mean  its  his- 
torical authority,  the  authority  of  the  record  as  a 
genuine  and  trustworthy  narrative  of  what  actually 
took  place  eighteen  and  a  half  centuries  ago.  Ee- 
stricting  themselves  to  this  narrow  and  unspiritual 
view  of  authority  in  things  heavenly  and  Divine,  we 
need  not  wonder  if  they  should  sometimes  fall  into 
the  error  of  supposing  that  this  authority  must 
gradually,  and  in  the  lapse  of  ages,  lose  its  hold  on 
the  human  mind.  One  writer,*  and  he  neither  an 
enemy  nor  a  sceptic,  has  gone  so  far  as  to  make 
this  process  a  matter  of  mathematical  calculation, 
his  conclusion  being  that  the  probability  of  the  New 
Testament  narrative  will  entirely  cease  at  the  end 
of  3,150  years,  reckoning  from  the  birth  of  Christ ; 
and  consequently,  that  this  will  be  the  epoch  when 
the  Son  of  God  will  come  to  judge  the  world,  be- 
cause then,  according  to  Luke,  chap,  viii,  ver.  8, 
there  will  be  no  more  faith  on  the  earth.  Let  such 
vagaries  pass  for  what  they  are  worth.  I  do  not 
shut  my  eyes  on  the  importance  and  necessity  of 
the  historical  authority  of  Christianity  ;  neither  am 
I  under  any  apprehensions  that  it  will  ever  fail ; 
but  this  I  say,  unless  sustained,  or  at  least  con- 
curred in,  by  the  moral  and  practical  authority,  it 
would   not,   it    could    not    stand.      If  the    monkish 

*  John  Craig,  in  his  Tkeologice  Ckristiance  Principia  Mathematica. 
2*  G 


34  THE  EVEELASTING   GOSPEL. 

legends  of  the  Middle  Ages,  if  the  coarse  and  vul- 
gar pretences  to  the  supernatural  in  our  own  day, 
are  urged  upon  us  as  entitled  to  credence,  because 
supported  by  a  greater  amount  of  historical  evi- 
dence than  can  be  adduced  in  proof  of  some  of  the 
Christian  miracles,  my  answer  is,  in  the  words  of 
Locke,  the  praise  of  whose  humble  faith  and  sobriety 
of  judgment  is  in  everybody's  mouth :  "  The  mira- 
cles are  to  be  judged  by  the  doctrine,  and  not  the 
doctrine  by  the  miracles."* 

So  far  as  our  faith  in  revelation  dependg  on  tra- 
dition alone,  whether  oral  or  written,  there  can  be 
no  doubt,  I  suppose,  that  time  must  do  something 
to  wear  away  its  freshness  and  vitality.  But  nothing 
hinders  this  loss  from  being  made  up,  and  more 
than  made  up,  in  other  ways ;  —  in  the  case  of 
Christianity,  by  the  fulfilment  of  prophecy,  by  con- 
tinued opportunity  to  submit  its  claims  to  a  prac- 
tical test,  by  its  triumphs,  by  its  fruits.  In  order 
to  excuse  our  own  doubts  and  misgivings  we  are 
apt  to  over-estimate  the  advantages  which  the  early 
converts  had  over  us,  and  to  under-estimate  the 
advantages  which  we  have  over  them,  as  regards 
the  Christian  evidences.  When  the  apostles  were 
arraigned  before  the  Council  at  Jerusalem,  you  re- 
member the  ground  taken  by  Gamaliel,  "  a  doctor  of 
the  law,  had  in  reputation  among  all  the  people " : 

*  Lord  King's  Life  of  John  Locke,  Yol.  I.  p.  234. 


THE  EVERLASTING   GOSPEL.  35 

"And  now  1  say  unto  you,  Refrain  from  these 
men,  and  let  tliem  alone ;  for  if  this  counsel  or 
this  work  be  of  men,  it  will  come  to  naught,  but 
if  it  be  of  God,  ye  cannot  overthrow  it."  Strange 
as  it  may  seem,  he  does  not  appear  to  have  been 
much  affected,  one  way  or  another,  by  what  had 
already  taken  place :  he  makes  everything  turn  on 
the  question.  Will  it  stand?  Now  it  has  stood. 
More  than  that ;  whatever  we  may  say  or  think 
about  its  inward  triumphs,  its  outward  triumphs 
are  unquestioned  and  complete.  At  this  very  mo- 
ment the  whole  civilized  world  are  glorifying  the 
advent  of  the  Son  of  Mary,  — of  Him,  who  while 
upon  earth  knew  not  where  to  lay  his  head,  the 
Crucified  One.  Who  does  not  perceive  that  the 
men  of  that  day,  Jews  and  Gentiles,  would  have 
poured  into  the  Church  by  thousands  and  tens  of 
thousands,  if  they  had  foreseen,  if  they  had  even 
so  much  as  suspected,  what  we  know? 

After  all,  however,  the  faith  which  is  built  on 
any  form  of  external  evidence,  is  a  faith  of  the  un- 
derstanding, and  not  necessarily  of  the  heart;  a 
faith,  moreover,  which  a  man  of  a  base  heart  may 
attain,  his  heart  remaining  unchanged.  What  we 
want  is  a  living  and  saving  faith  in  Christianity, 
which  consists,  not  in  believing  or  knowing  that  the 
Gospel  is  true,  but  in  feeling  the  force  of  the 
truths  which  the    Gospel   teaches;   and  this  cannot 


S6  THE  EVERLASTING    GOSPEL. 

be,  until  our  hearts  are  brought  into  communion 
and  sympathy  with  them ;  and  this,  again,  is  the 
work,  not  of  books  on  the  evidences,  but  of  Chris- 
tian nurture.  What  is  true  of  God  in  Nature,  is 
true  also  of  God  in  History  and  God  in  Christ;  — 
to  apprehend  Divinity  anywhere,  in  anything,  so  as 
to  be  vitally  affected  thereby,  we  must  first  be  put 
into  communication  with  it,  through  the  develop- 
ment of  what  is  divine  in  our  own  souls.  Did  our 
Lord  mean  nothing  when  he  said :  "  My  doctrine 
is  not  mine,  but  His  that  sent  me ;  if  any  man  will 
do  His  will,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine,  whether 
it  be  of  God,  or  whether  I  speak  of  myself"  ?  Does 
any  one  suppose  that  holy  and  devout  men,  men 
who  know  Christianity  from  the  life  and  have  made 
great  progress  in  that  life,  ask  for  any  better  evi- 
dence of  its  truth  than  they  can  find  in  themselves  ? 
Whence  then  this  modern  conceit,  that  we  are 
growing  so  wise  and  good  as  to  be  in  danger  of 
outgrowing  Christianity  ?  Undoubtedly  there  is  a 
culture  of  the  understanding  and  of  the  taste,  which 
will  make  a  great  scholar,  or  a  great  artist,  or 
a  great  man  of  business,  without  bringing  him 
any  nearer  to  the  kingdom  of  God ;  but  it  is  be- 
cause the  culture  is  limited  and  one-sided.  Make 
it  to  be  the  culture  of  the  whole  man,  and  the 
higher  the  culture,  the  stronger  and  the  purer  the 
faith. 


THE  EVERLASTING   GOSPEL.  37 

If  these  things  are  so,  it  follows  incontestably  that 
Christianity  is  not  a  passing  phase  of  society,  a  re- 
ligion very  well  for  its  time,  a  single  stage  in  hu- 
man progress,  which,  like  every  other  such  stage, 
must  have  its  beginning,  its  middle,  and  its  end. 
It  is  "  an  everlasting  possession."  This  I  have 
shown  to  follow  from  the  fact  that  Christianity  is 
true  and  Divine,  and  from  the  express  teaching  of 
Scripture.  But  I  have  not  stopped  there.  I  have 
also  shown  it  to  follow  from  the  nature  of  the  re- 
ligion itself,  and  from  the  character  of  its  Founder, 
and  from  the  adjustment  of  both  to  the  essential 
and  indestructible  needs  and  capacities  of  the  hu- 
man soul.  In  proportion  as  Christianity  educates 
men  up  to  a  level  with  its  own  teachings,  they  will 
find  the  witness  in  themselves.  The  deep  intuitions 
of  our  spiritual  nature,  once  awakened  by  the  Gos- 
pel, will  shine  in  their  own  light,  and  shine  on 
forever. 

Jesus  of  Nazareth  is  looked  up  to,  not  as  the 
head  of  a  new  school  in  philosophy,  not  as  the 
founder  of  a  new  dynasty,  or  a  new  state,  but  as 
the  Father  of  a  New  Age.  Modern  civilization  is 
built  on  the  great  movement  which  he  began  ;  and 
this  civilization  would  be  shaken  to  its  base,  would 
tumble  into  ruins,  were  faith  in  Him  to  fail.  But 
it  never  will.  We  may  wonder  at  the  slow  pro- 
gress of  things ;  but  it  is  because  they  are  in  the 


38  THE  EVERLASTING   GOSPEL. 

hands  of  Him  with  whom  "  one  day  is  as  a  thousand 
years,  and  a  thousand  years  as  one  day."  We  may 
wonder  at  the  errors  and  folUes,  at  the  divisions 
and  strifes  which  have  prevailed,  and  still  prevail 
among  Christians;  but  to  say  that  all  this  struggle 
between  good  and  evil,  between  light  and  darkness, 
is  to  end  in  nothing,  would  be  worse  than  a  belief 
in  atheism;  it  would  be  atheism  acted  out.  Every- 
where, and  over  all  is  heard  that  voice  at  which 
the  storms  were  hushed,  and  the  dead  raised: 
*'  Upon  this  rock  I  will  build  my  Church  ;  and  the 
gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  it."  "  Heaven 
and  earth  shall  pass  away,  but  my  words  shall  not 
pass  away." 


THE  SCHOLAR  AMONG  THE  APOSTLES. 

I  AM  VERILY  A  MAN  WHICH  AM  A  JEW,  BORN  IN  TARSUS,  A  CITY 
IN  CILICIA,  YET  BROUGHT  UP  IN  THIS  CITY,  AT  THE  FEET  OP 
GAMALIEL,  AND  TAUGHT  ACCORDING  TO  THE  PERFECT  MANNER 
OF   THE   LAW   OF   THE   FATHERS.  —  ActS   Xxii.  3. 

Paul  was  the  only  one  among  the  Apostles  who 
can  be  said  to  have  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  a 
liberal  education,  or  to  have  moved  before  his  con- 
version in  the  higher  walks  of  life.  I  propose  to 
consider  the  influence  of  this  circumstance  on  his 
character,  teachings,  and  success. 

Let  me  begin,  however,  by  observing,  that  I  enter- 
tain no  disparaging  views  either  of  the  social  or  in- 
tellectual condition '  of  the  rest  of  the  Apostles. 
Though  they  cannot  be  said  to  have  been  learned, 
in  the  sense  of  being  scholars,  like  Paul,  there  is 
no  ground  for  supposing  that  they  were  especially 
rude,  ignorant,  or  even  illiterate.  They  were  not 
taken  from  the  lowest  class  in  society;  in  that  case 
they  would  have  had  too  much  to  learn :  nor  yet, 
from  the  highest  class;  in  that  case  they  would 
have  had  too  much  to  unlearn.     In  common  with 


40  THE   SCHOLAE  AMONG  THE  APOSTLES. 

a  large  proportion  of  the  first  Christian  teachers, 
they  were  taken  from  the  middle  class ;  where  al- 
most all  great  moral  revolutions  have  begun,  as 
Protestantism  in  Germany,  and  Puritanism  in  Eng- 
land, and  where  such  revolutions,  for  obvious  rea- 
sons, must  always  be  expected  to  begin. 

Let  me  also,  before  going  any  further,  anticipate 
a  general  objection  to  the  very  aim  of  this  discourse, 
which  may  possibly  occur  to  some  minds.  It  may 
be  thought  that  in  making  Paul's  conduct  in  his 
apostleship  to  be  modified  or  determined  in  any 
way  by  his  previous  culture,  I  forget,  or  virtually 
deny,  that  he  was  inspired.  The  Apostles  may  have 
differed,  as  other  men  do,  in  their  natural  and 
acquired  tastes  and  abilities ;  still  it  may  be  thought 
that  these  differences  could  not  have  affected  them 
as  apostles,  certainly  not  in  their  teachings,  inas- 
much as  they  all  "  spake  as  they  were  moved  by 
the  Holy  Ghost." 

In  reply  to  this  I  hasten  to  say,  that  nothing  is 
further  from  my  purpose  than  to  call  in  question 
the  inspiration  of  the  sacred  writers,  or  to  seek  to 
resolve  that  inspiration  into  natural  causes.  I  as- 
sume that  they  were  divinely  appointed,  and  di- 
vinely illuminated,  in  order  to  become  infallible 
guides  as  to  what  is  essential  or  important  to  Chris- 
tianity. But  we  are  not  to  suppose  that  inspira- 
tion  annihilates   personality,   or   differences   of  per- 


THE  SCHOLAE  AMONG  THE  APOSTLES.  41 

sonal  endowment,  even  as  regards  teaching.  In 
fact,  we  know  better.  We  caniiot  open  the  New 
Testament,  at  any  rate  we  caimot  peruse  it  with 
the  smallest  measure  of  discrimination,  without  per- 
ceiving that  Matthew  did  not  write  like  John,  and 
that  neither  Matthew  nor  John  wrote  like  Paul. 
From  tliis  we  do  not  infer  that  all  of  them,  or  any 
of  them,  were  uninspired  men.  We  believe  them 
all  to  have  been  supernaturally  enlightened,  and  to 
have  thus  had  before  them  a  true  conception  of 
the  religion  they  were  to  teach.  Still  in  the  act 
of  teaching  it,  we  believe,  or  rather  we  cannot  help 
seeing,  that  one  insists  on  one  topic  and  another  on 
another,  that  one  illustrates  the  same  truth  in  one 
way  and  another  in  another,  that  one  considers  it 
in  one  connection  and  another  in  another,  accord- 
ing to  the  particular  purpose  he  has  in  view,  or  his 
peculiar  bent  of  mind,  or  his  skill,  or  his  want  of 
skill,  as  a  writer. 

I  return,  then,  to  a  consideration  of  Paul's  con- 
dition in  life  and  early  training,  and  the  influence 
they  appear  to  have  had  on  his  conduct  and  suc- 
cess. 

Though  of  Hebrew  descent,  he  was  born  at  Tar- 
sus, in  Cilicia,  —  "a  citizen  of  no  mean  city."  Stra- 
bo,  a  contemporary  of  Paul,  says  of  the  inhabitants 
of  this  place,  who  were  mostly  Greeks,  that  they 
"cherish  such  a  passion  for  philosophy,  and  all  the 


42  THE   SCHOLAR  AMONG   THE  APOSTLES. 

various  branches  of  polite  letters,  as  greatly  to  ex- 
cel Athens  and  Alexandria,  and  every  other  place 
in  which  there  are  schools  and  academies  of  phi- 
losophy and  erudition.  But  Tarsus  differs  in  this  ; 
those  who  here  devote  themselves  to  the  study  of 
literature  are  natives  of  the  country ;  not  many 
come  from  foreign  parts.  Nor  do  the  natives  of  the 
country  continue  here  for  life,  but  they  go  abroad 
to  finish  their  studies,  and  when  they  have  perfected 
themselves,  they  choose  to  live  in  other  places :  there 
are  but  few  who  return  home."  *  The  course  pur- 
sued by  Paul  illustrates  in  a  striking  manner  these 
statements  of  the  old  geographer.  The  first  years 
of  his  life  were  passed  in  his  native  city,  where  he 
could  not  fail  to  profit  by  the  facilities  he  enjoyed 
to  become  acquainted  with  Greek  society,  Greek 
literature  and  the  Greek  mind.  His  condition  in 
life  was  evidently  such  as  to  bring  these  advantages 
within  his  reach ;  for  he  says  expressly  that  he 
was  "born"  a  Roman  citizen,  —  a  distinction  his 
family  is  supposed  to  have  obtained  by  purchase  at 
an  exorbitant  price,  or  else  as  the  reward  of  im- 
portant public  service :  in  either  case  it  argues  a 
family  of  consideration.  Moreover,  to  have  coveted 
such  a  distinction,  the  privileges  of  Roman  citizen- 
ship, argues  a  family  not  shut  up  within  the  narrow 
bounds  of  Jewish  prejudice. 

*  Geographica,  Lib.-  xiv.  Cap.  X.  13. 


THE  SCHOLAR  AMONG  THE  APOSTLES.  43 

However  this  may  be,  it  is  certain  that  in  due 
time,  and  before  attaining  to  manhood,  Paul  fol- 
lowed the  practice  which  Strabo  says  was  so  com- 
mon with  the  students  of  Tarsus,  he  went  abroad 
to  complete  his  education.  As  "  a  Hebrew  of  the 
Hebrews,"  as  "  a  Pharisee,  the  son  of  a  Pharisee," 
he  repaired,  of  course,  to  Jerusalem,  still  the  centre 
of  Hebrew  tradition  and  Hebrew  learning ;  where  he 
joined  the  school  of  Gamaliel,  the  most  distinguished 
at  that  time  among  the  doctors  of  his  nation,  and 
was  brought  up  at  his  feet,  being  "  taught  accord- 
ing to  the  perfect  manner  of  the  law  of  the  fathers." 
Here,  his  proficiency  and  zeal  were  such  as  to  at- 
tract the  attention  of  the  leading  men  at  Jerusa- 
lem ;  so  much  so,  that  they  did  not  hesitate  to 
intrust  him,  soon  afterwards,  young  as  he  yet  was, 
with  commissions  which  they  miist  have  known  re- 
quired not  a  little  of  resolution  and  address.  Ac- 
cordingly he  says  on  one  occasion :  "I  profited  in 
the  Jews'  religion  above  many  mine  equals  in  mine 
own  nation,  being  more  exceedingly  zealous  of  the 
traditions."  And  again :  ''  I  persecuted  this  way 
unto  the  death,  binding  and  delivering  into  prisons 
both  men  and  women ;  as  also  the  High  Priest 
doth  bear  me  witness,  and  all  the  estate  of  the 
elders:  from  whom  also  I  received  letters  unto  the 
brethren,  and  went  to  Damascus,  to  bring  them 
which  were  there  bound  unto  Jerusalem,  to  be 
punished." 


44  THE  SCHOLAE  AMONG  THE  APOSTLES. 

Some  have  wondered  that  Paul,  after  having  had 
his  mind  enlarged  and  liberahzed  by  study,  —  es- 
pecially under  such  a  teacher  as  Gamaliel,  who  ap- 
pears to  have  counselled  moderation  and  forbear- 
ance in  respect  to  the  new  religion,  —  should  have 
become  so  unwearied  and  relentless  a  persecutor  of 
the  Church.  But  they  forget  two  things.  In  the 
first  place,  they  forget  that  a  spirit  of  moderation, 
is  generally  much  more  a  matter  of  temperament, 
than  of  instruction  or  education.  Again,  they  for- 
get that  persecution  is  of  two  kinds :  some  perse- 
cuting from  policy,  because  their  craft  is  in  danger ; 
others  from  an  honest  dread  of  what  they  believe 
to  be  pernicious  error,  —  because  they  think  that 
religion,  morality,  order,  the  best  interests  of  man- 
kind, are  in  danger.  I  am  aware  that,  in  practice, 
we  seldom  meet  with  either  of  these  two  kinds  of 
persecution  wholly  unmixed  with  the  other;  still 
history  affords  some  examples,  —  for  instance,  that 
of  Sir  Thomas  More,  —  where  the  latter  kind,  which 
we  may  call  conscientious  persecution,  was  com- 
paratively pure.  And  so  with  Paul;  for  he  tells 
us,  after  his  conversion,  "  I  verily  thought  with  my- 
self, that  I  ought  to  do  many  things  contrary  to 
the  name  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth. '*  We  also  have  the 
evidence  of  his  after  life  to  the  same  effect.  The 
moment  he  was  convinced  that  the  new  doctrine 
was  from  God,  his  love   of  truth   showed  itself  to 


THE  SCHOLAR  AMONG  THE  APOSTLES.  45 

be  stronger  than  his  prejudices,  or  his  party  ties, 
or  his  worldly  ambition ;  and  from  being  the  per- 
secutor of  Christianity,  he  became  the  most  active 
and  successful  of  its  advocates  and  missionaries.  I 
do  not  make  these  distinctions  in  order  to  justify 
the  conduct  of  Paul,  while  a  Jew;. he  never  thought 
to  justify,  or  even  to  excuse  it,  to  himself;  —  but 
simply  to  set  it  in  its  true  light.  It  did  not  spring, 
like  most  persecution,  from  an  essentially  bad  prin- 
ciple, but  from  the  perversion  of  an  essentially  good 
principle  ;  —  a  perversion,  moreover,  to  which  a  young 
and  ardent  scholar,  fresh  from  his  studies,  and  burn- 
ing with  desire  to  signalize  his  zeal  for  what  he 
had  been  taught,  was  peculiarly  liable. 

All  are  familiar  with  the  miraculous  circumstances 
which  attended  the  conversion  of  Paul,  while  on  his 
way  to  Damascus,  and  also  with  the  fact,  just  in- 
timated, that  he  "  was  not  disobedient  to  the  heaven- 
ly vision."  And  here  it  is  difficult,  if  not  impos- 
sible, to  avoid  the  conclusion,  that  the  preparation 
of  Paul  up  to  this  time  had  been  by  the  special 
ordering  of  Divine  Providence ;  for  an  exigency  had 
now  arisen,  calling  for  precisely  such  a  man,  with 
precisely  such  a  training.  As  he  was  to  be  the 
great  Apostle  to  the  Gentiles,  as  he  was  to  form 
the  connecting  link  between  the  Jewish  and  pagan 
•worlds,  it  was  necessary  that  his  education  should 
be   such   as   to   make  him   acquainted   with   Jewish 


46  THE  SCHOLAR   AMONG   THE  APOSTLES. 

and  pagan  habits  of  life  and  thought,  in  order  that 
he  might  be  in  a  condition  to  understand  and  do 
justice  to  both. 

First  of  all,  we  see  the  fruit  of  this  culture  in 
the  tlwughtfulness  and  deliberation  with  which  he 
entered  on  his  labors.  Had  Paul  been  an  ignorant 
man,  or  even  what  is  called  a  self-educated  man, 
he  would  probably  have  deemed  himself  competent 
at  once  to  the  undertaking  ;  as  it  was,  he  had  the 
diffidence  which  belongs  to  men  of  large  and  com- 
prehensive views.  Accordingly  his  first  step  was  to 
retire  into  Arabia,  where  he  passed  three  years  in 
comparative  seclusion ;  being  occupied,  for  the  most 
part,  as  we  may  presume,  in  adjusting  his  mind  to 
his  new  experiences  and  his  new  conceptions  of 
truth,  in  maturing  his  plans  and  deepening  the 
foundations  of  his  own  faith  and  piety.  It  was 
this  earnest  self-discipline,  in  conjunction  with  the 
cosmopolite  character  of  his  previous  training,  more 
perhaps  than  anything  else,  his  miraculous  powers 
excepted,  which  qualified  him  so  eminently  to  be- 
come an  Apostle  to  the  Gentiles.  His  subsequent 
conduct  testifies  to  this  truth.  Among  all  nations, 
from  the  most  civilized  to  the  most  barbarous,  with 
all  people,  from  the  most  enlightened  to  the  most 
ignorant,  —  among  the  wandering  hordes  of  Arabia, 
in  the  beautiful  country  of  Asia  Minor,  amidst  the 
bleak    and   barren    mountains   of  Thrace,   with   the 


THE  SCHOLAR   AMONG  THE   APOSTLES.  47 

sceptical  and  philosophizing  Athenians,  with  the  cor- 
rupt and  effeminate  Corinthians,  in  the  Eternal 
City,  in  Spain,  even  among  the  poor  and  super- 
stitious islanders  of  Malta,  —  there  was  scarcely  a 
discovered  spot  on  the  face  of  the  globe,  where  we 
do  not  find  the  footprints  of  this  unwearied  apostle, 
everywhere  at  home,  everywhere  prepared  with  views 
and  arguments  adapted  to  the  habits  and  capacities 
of  the  people  he  addressed,  everywhere  preaching 
"  Jesus  and  the  resurrection,"  and  becoming  all 
things  to  all  men,  that  he  might  at  least  save 
some. 

We  also  see  traces  of  Paul's  scholarship,  and 
general  refinement  of  thought  and  manner,  in  his 
teaching ;  and  especially  in  his  style  of  address, 
where  rude,  but  well-meaning,  reformers  are  so  apt 
to  fail.  He  carefully  abstains,  as  has  just  been 
hinted,  from  giving  unnecessary  offence.  As  far  as 
compatible  with  conscience  and  his  leading  objects, 
he  always  seeks  to  accommodate  himself  to  the  cus- 
toms and  prejudices  of  the  persons  addressed,  com- 
bining in  a  remarkable  manner  the  severe  indepen- 
dence and  uncompromising  purpose  of  a  confessor 
and  martyr  with  the  adroitness,  and  oftentimes  with 
the  ease  and  urbanity,  of  a  man  of  the  world.  Wit- 
ness the  exordium  of  his  celebrated  defence  before 
Agrippa.  "  Then  Paul  stretched  forth  his  hand  and 
answered  for  himself.      I  think  myself  happy,  King 


48  THE  SCHOLAR   AMONG  THE  APOSTLES. 

Agrippa,  because  I  shall  answer  for  myself  this  day 
before  thee,  touching  all  the  things  whereof  I  am 
accused  of  the  Jews ;  especially  because  I  know  thee 
to  be  expert  in  all  customs  and  questions  which 
are  among  the  Jews:  wherefore  I  beseech  thee  to 
hear  me  patiently."  And,  above  all,  in  the  noble 
burst  of  eloquence  at  the  close  of  that  discourse. 
"  Tlien  Agrippa  said  unto  Paul,  '  Almost  thou  per- 
suadest  me  to  be  a  Christian.'  And  Paul  said,  ^  I 
would  to  God,  that  not  only  thou,  but  also  all  that 
hear  me  this  day,  were  both  almost,  and  altogether 
such  as  I  am,  except  these  bonds.''  "  Witness,  also, 
his  address  to  the  Athenians.  It  appears  that  Paul, 
as  his  custom  was,  had  been  preaching  "  Jesus  and 
the  Resurrection,"  and  this,  by  a  natural  miscon- 
ception on  the  part  of  polytheists,  had  been  con- 
strued into  an  unauthorized  "  setting  forth  of  strange 
gods,"  which  the  laws  forbade  under  penalty  of 
death.  Hence  one  of  his  objects  was  to  undeceive 
them  in  this  respect,  and  to  do  it  in  a  manner 
which  should  be  true  in  itself,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  intelligible  from  their  point  of  view.  Mark 
how  admirably  he  succeeds.  "  Then  Paul  stood  in 
the  midst  of  Areopagus,  and  said :  '  Ye  men  of 
Athens,  I  perceive  you  altogether  much  given  to 
religious  worship.  For  as  I  passed  by  and  beheld 
your  devotions,  I  found,  among  others,  an  altar 
with  this  inscription.  To  the  Unknown  God.    Whom, 


THE  SCHOLAR  AMONG  THE  APOSTLES.  49 

therefore,  without  knowing,  ye  worship.  Him  declare 
I  unto  you.' "  I  have  no  wish  to  exaggerate  the 
literary  merits  of  the  sacred  writers,  or  to  put  what 
they  have  done  on  a  level,  in  this  respect,  with  the 
great  masterpieces  of  genius  and  art :  nevertheless 
I  do  not  wonder,  that,  in  a  fragment  ascribed  by 
some  to  Longinus,  Paul  of  Tarsus  is  numbered 
among  the  celebrated  orators  of  Greece. 

Again,  we  see  the  influence  of  Paul's  intellectual 
training  and  activity,  in  the  logical  form  which  the 
Christian  doctrine  took  under  his  hand.  The  other 
writers  of  the  New  Testament  look  chiefly  to  prac- 
tical wants ;  Paul  alone  represents  the  logical  or 
purely  intellectual  want  of  the  Church ;  and  he 
represents  it,  because  he  alone,  from  his  previous 
mental  training  and  habits  of  thought,  was  likely 
to  feel  it.  The  other  writers  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment were  content  to  give  a  religion  to  the  world ; 
he  aspired  to  give  a  theology,  that  is,  a  philosophy 
of  religion,  —  not  only  what  is  to  be  believed,  but 
the  reason  why  it  is  to  be  believed,  and  its  connec- 
tions with  other  truths,  and  especially  with  what  is 
known  of  the  human  and  Divine  natures.  I  am 
aware  that  some  persons  are  half-inclined  to  regret, 
that  so  early  an  example  was  set  in  the  Church 
of  an  attempt  to  make  the  Gospel  assume  a  logical 
or  scientific  form.  While  we  have  but  one  relig- 
ion,  they  will  tell  you,   that  we  have  a  multitude 

3  D 


60  THE   SCHOLAR  AMONG  THE  APOSTLES. 

of  theologies ;  that  these  theologies  have  only  had 
the  effect  to  distract  and  obstruct  the  religion ;  and 
that  the  Pauline  theology  was  the  first,  and  led  the 
way  to  others,  or  at  least  to  varieties  of  itself.  But 
all  such  regrets  are  vain.  A  scientific  spirit,  a 
passion  for  comprehending  things,  and  putting  all 
knowledge  in  harmony  with  itself,  in  one  word, 
logical  thinkings  with  all  its  consequences  for  weal 
or  woe,  is  a  necessity  to  some  minds.  Very  prob- 
ably the  majority  of  Christians  would  be  content 
with  the  devotional  and  practical  portions  of  the 
New  Testament.  But  this  to  the  Augustines  and 
Luthers  of  all  ages  is  "milk  for  babes";  they  turn 
to  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans  and  the  Epistle  to  the 
Galatians,  as  the  "  strong  meat  for  men."  John 
was  "  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved " ;  Paul  is 
known  by  another  distinction,  which,  in  the  view 
of  many,  is  hardly  less  honorable,  —  he  was  the 
great  thinker  in  the  Primitive  Church.  From  these 
personal  differences  we  do  not  infer  that  the  Gos- 
pel according  to  Paul  differed  from  the  Gospel  ac- 
cording to  John  in  substance,  but  only  in  form; 
and  it  was  doubtless  best  that  among  those  who 
were  authorized  to  give  a  form,  or,  rather,  some  of 
its  various  possible  forms,  to  the  Gospel,  every  type 
of  the  human  mind  and  character  should  find  its 
representative. 

We  find   still   further  traces  of  Paul's  large  and 


THE   SCHOLAE   AMONG   THE   APOSTLES.  51 

generous  culture  in  what  may  be  called  the  spirit 
of  his  teaching.  A  large  proportion  of  the  intol- 
erance and  uncharitableness  among  Christians  origi- 
nates in  narrow  views.  Enlarge  men's  minds,  and 
you  do  not  a  little  towards  enlarging  their  policy, 
and  sometimes  even  their  hearts.  Of  this  we  have 
more  than  one  illustration  in  the  Apostle  Paul;  — 
in  the  readiness  with  which  he  gave  up  his  Jewish 
repugnance  to  admit  the  Gentiles  into  the  Church; 
in  the  magnificent  eulogium  on  charity  in  his  First 
Epistle  to  the  Corinthians  ;  and  in  the  candor  and 
liberality  which  he  recommends  in  the  treatment 
of  weak  brethren.  "  Him  that  is  weak  in  the  faith 
receive  ye,  but  not  to  doubtful  disputations.  One 
man  esteemeth  one  day  above  another ;  another 
esteemeth  every  day  alike.  Let  every  man  be  fully 
persuaded  in  his  own  mind.  I  know,  and  am  per- 
suaded by  the  Lord  Jesus,  that  there  is  nothing 
unclean  of  itself;  but  to  him  that  esteemeth  any- 
thing unclean,  to  him  it  is  unclean.  We  then  that 
are  strong,  ought  to  bear  the  infirmities  of  the 
weak,  and  not  to  please  ourselves."  This,  certainly, 
is  the  language  of  one,  whom  the  study  of  men,  as 
well  as  of  books,  has  imbued  not  only  with  the 
love  of  wisdom,  but  with  the  wisdom  of  love. 
Hence  in  all  the  differences  which  grew  up  among 
the  first  Christians,  we  find  Paul  on  the  liberal 
side.      He    knew    how    endless    and    profitless   were 


62  THE   SCHOLAR  AMONG  THE  APOSTLES. 

most  of  the  contentions  which  divide  and  estrange 
mankind.  He  knew,  too,  that  neither  righteousness 
nor  piety  was  confined  to  one  place,  or  one  party, 
or  one  creed.  For  he  had  travelled  the  world 
over ;  he  had  seen  men  under  every  variety  of  cli- 
mate and  government  and  religion,  and  he  had 
found  good  men  everywhere,  and  bad  men  every- 
where. He  felt,  moreover,  for  his  whole  race,  know- 
ing that  he  shared  with  them  a  common  frailty, 
and  they  with  him  a  common  hope ;  that  there  was 
one  Father  over  all,  who  could  not  but  love  all  his 
children. 

One  remark  more,  which  may  be  regarded  as  the 
application  of  the  whole  subject.  The  education 
and  social  position  of  Paul  give  new  force  to  the 
argument  for  the  truth  of  Christianity  drawn  from 
his  conversion.  We  have  dwelt  on  the  education 
and  social  position  of  Paul,  not  for  the  purpose  of 
proving  that  he  was  a  good  man,  or  an  inspired 
man,  for  they  prove  neither ;  but  as  evidence  that 
he  was  raised  above  many  popular  errors,  and  not 
likely  to  be  carried  away  by  a  mere  popular  ex- 
citement. With  the  rest  of  the  Apostles  it  was  not 
so ;  much  enlargement  of  mind,  or  much  knowledge 
of  the  world  and  its  ways,  was  hardly,  of  course,  to 
be  expected  in  persons  of  their  condition  in  life. 
Accordingly,  had  they  alone,  and  such  as  they,  been 
wrought  upon,  it  would,  no  doubt,  have  been  pre- 


THE  SCHOLAR  AMONG   THE  APOSTLES.  53 

tended  that  a  little  enthusiasm  or  a  little  craft  was 
quite  sufficient  to  account  for  the  success  of  the  de- 
lusion. But  in  Paul  we  have  a  man  not  so  easily 
to  be  deceived  and  misled,  —  a  man  whose  mind  had 
been  informed  and  enlarged  by  liberal  studies  and 
foreign  travel,  —  a  man  who  could  reason  with  phi- 
losophers, and  at  whose  eloquence  kings  trembled,  — 
a  man  of  whom  Festus  said,  "  Paul,  thou  art  beside 
thyself;  much  learning  doth  make  thee  mad." 

If  we  ever  doubt  the  historical  truth  of  our  re- 
ligion, I  believe  it  is,  generally,  because  we  think 
that  if  we  had  lived  at  the  time,  and  on  the  spot, 
we  should  have  been  able  to  detect  some  flaw  in 
the  evidence.  But  what  right  have  we  to  think  we 
could  have  done  this,  when  we  find  it  was  not 
done  by  Paul  ?  Have  we  any  more  penetration 
than  he  had,  or  more  knowledge  of  the  world,  or  of 
the  weaknesses  and  perversities  of  human  nature  ? 
Are  we  any  more  elevated  than  he  was,  by  birth, 
education,  and  standing  in  society,  above  the  delu- 
sions and  credulities  of  the  popular  mind  ?  Should 
we  have  been  any  more  likely  than  he  was  to  sus- 
pect fanaticism  or  hypocrisy,  or  to  detect  pious 
frauds  ?  To  all  these  questions  we  must  answer. 
No.  Yet  this  man,  living  at  the  time  and  on  the 
spot,  was  converted  ;  this  man,  from  being  a  con- 
scientious and  thoroughly  instructed  Jew,  became 
a   Christian ;  this   man,  from   being  an   enemy  and 


54  THE   SCHOLAK  AMONG   THE  APOSTLES. 

persecutor  of  the  new  faith,  became  its  most  active 
and  zealous  advocate  and  missionary ;  this  man, 
who,  to  all  outward  appearance,  had  everything  to 
lose,  and  nothing  to  gain  by  changing  his  religion, 
changed  it,  nevertheless,  on  conviction,  and  lived 
and  died  in  that  conviction. 

There  is  a  tradition  in  the  Church,  that  Paul 
was  beheaded  near  Rome,  and  buried  about  two 
miles  from  the  city,  on  the  Ostian  Road.  A  magnifi- 
cent cathedral,  dedicated  to  his  memory,  was  built 
over  his  grave  by  Constantino ;  but  his  noblest 
monument  is  found  in  the  churches  which  he  plant- 
ed, and,  above  all,  in  his  immortal  writings  which 
"  are  read  of  all  men."  How  instructive  is  this 
lesson  from  history  !  for  it  shows  that  the  most  en- 
during fame  is  to  be  found  in  the  ways  of  the  high- 
est duty.  If  Paul  had  denied  or  stifled  his  con- 
science, if  he  had  thought  only  of  ease  and  present 
reputation,  he  might  doubtless  have  taken  his  place 
among  the  most  distinguished  rabbis  of  his  nation ; 
but  who  would  have  cared  for  him  now  ?  His  glory 
is  this,  that  he  devoted  his  talents  and  learning 
and  life  to  the  service  of  truth  and  the  good  of 
mankind,  —  a  glory  as  imperishable  as  the  objects 
for  which  he  labored. 


THE  ALLEGED  INFIDELITY  OF  GREAT  MEN. 


HAVE  ANT  OF  THE  RULERS,  OR  OF  THE  PHARISEES,  BELIEVED 

ON  HIM? — John  vii.  48. 


"We  sometimes  hear  insinuations  thrown  out 
against  a  belief  in  Christianity,  as  if  it  were  a  weak- 
ness, to  which  men  of  strong  minds,  especially  if 
also  men  of  science  or  men  of  the  world,  must  by 
necessity  be  superior.  Let  this  opinion  prevail  among 
the  educated  and  ambitious  classes,  and  there  is  an 
end  to  all  hope  that  they  will  ever  be  deeply  and 
seriously  affected  by  the  Gospel.  They  may  find  it 
prudent  or  convenient  to  pay  an  outward  respect 
to  it,  as  the  religion  of  the  country ;  they  may  even 
do  so  from  a  sincere  regard  to  the  best  interests 
of  the  community ;  but  that  they  should  be  deeply 
and  seriously  affected  by  it  in  their  own  hearts,  while 
entertaining  such  views,  is  out  of  the  question. 

The  friends  of  religion,  from  their  jealousy  of  hu- 
man learning  and  worldly  distinctions,  are  some- 
times betrayed  into  language  tending  to  the  same 
effect.     I  am  aware  that,  in  the  latter  case,  when 


56  INFIDELITY   OF   GREAT  MEN. 

infidelity  and  irreligion  are  charged  upon  great 
men.  it  is  with  a  view  to  detract  from  the  great 
men,  and  not  from  the  rehgion  of  which  they  have 
shown  themselves  unworthy.  Still,  if  the  topic  is 
frequently  returned  to,  and  dwelt  upon,  without 
making  the  proper  discriminations,  it  will  insensibly 
give  rise,  at  least  in  most  minds,  to  the  prejudice 
above  mentioned.  They  will  begin  to  suspect  that 
as  knowledge  advances  faith  recedes;  and,  on  the 
strength  of  this  suspicion,  their  own  faith  will  be- 
gin to  recede.  Ostensibly  it  may  not  take  the  form 
of  an  objection  to  the  Gospel,  but  it  will  do  the 
work  of  an  objection ;  or,  worse  still,  it  will  act  as 
a  secret,  undefined,  half-unconscious  misgiving. 

For  this  reason  I  propose  to  take  up  and  ex- 
amine the  alleged  infidelity  and  irreligion  of  great 
men.  How  far  is  this  charge  well-founded?  and  as 
far  as  well  founded,  what  does  it  signify? 

Reasoning  from  general  considerations  alone,  it 
would  be  easy  to  show  that  there  is  no  incom- 
patibility between  religion  and  true  greatness. 

Thus  I  might  show,  in  the  first  place,  that  the 
very  preparation  of  mind  necessary  to  make  it  fully 
alive  to  the  satisfactions,  or  even  to  the  evidences 
of  spiritual  truth,  must  also  have  a  tendency  to  re- 
fine, liberalize  and  enlarge  the  mind  itself.  I  might 
show,  in  the  second  place,  that  the  leading  subjects 
of  contemplation  which  religion  brings  into  notice, 


INFIDELITY   OF   GREAT  MEN.  57 

are  of  such  a  nature  that  they  cannot  fail  to  com- 
municate something  of  their  own  weight  and  dig- 
nity to  the  mind  that  is  familiar  with  them.  I 
might  show,  in  the  third  place,  that  the  feelings 
and  dispositions,  the  purposes  and  aspirations,  which 
religion  excites  and  calls  forth,  are  among  the 
noblest  properties  of  the  soul,  and  as  far  as  possible 
removed  from  all  that  is  low,  or  mean,  or  ordinary. 
I  might  show,  in  the  fourth  place,  that  in  a  multi- 
tude of  instances  the  direct  influence  of  religious 
principle  has  been  to  lead  men  to  acts  of  magna- 
nimity and  heroism,  which  have  never  been  exceeded. 
And  lastly,  I  might  show,  that  the  most  illustrious 
names  in  history,  the  brightest  ornaments  of  society 
and  greatest  benefactors  of  mankind,  infidels  them- 
selves being  judges,  liave  been  found  among  those 
who  looked  to  religion  as  the  source  of  their  high- 
est as  well  as  purest  inspirations,  and  considered 
themselves  as  never  more  truly  great,  than  when 
in  the  act  of  acknowledging  God  as  their  infinite 
and  loving  Father. 

But  general  reasonings  of  this  kind  meet  the 
difficulty  under  consideration  only  half  way.  They 
prove  indeed  that  there  is  no  incompatibility  between 
true  religion  and  real  greatness ;  and  furthermore, 
that  many  great  men  have  been  humble  and  de- 
vout believers.  Still  the  original  charge  may  stand, 
to  this  extent  at  least,  that  the  proportion  of  great 

3* 


68  mriDELiTY  of  geeat  men. 

men  who  have  been  infidels  or  sceptics,  is  larger 
than  that  of  men  in  ordinary  life. 

Is  it  so,  however,  in  point  of  fact? 

Great  men  are  either  great  actors,  or  great  think- 
ers ;  they  are  seldom  both.  Now  when  great  men 
are  said  to  be  sceptically  inclined,  I  suppose  the 
great  men  intended  are  the  great  thinkers :  first, 
because  they  are  the  only  great  men  who  are  likely 
to  intermeddle  with  the  difficult  and  perplexing 
questions  at  issue  ;  and  secondly,  because  they  are 
the  only  great  men  whose  judgment  in  such  mat- 
ters is  of  sufficient  importance  to  be  referred  to. 

The  charge,  then,  is  against  the  great  thinkers ; 
but,  considered  as  made  against  them,  several  rea- 
sons may  be  suggested,  which  should  make  us  slow 
to  entertain  it. 

Great  thinkers  must  be  presumed  to  be  some- 
times in  advance  of  the  world  in  tlieir  thinking ; 
else  why  are  they  called  great  thinkers.  Merely  to 
be  able  to  defend  by  a  subtle  and  refined  logic  a 
foregone  conclusion  argues  ingenuity,  it  is  true,  but 
not  the  much  higher  faculty,  that  of  original  thought. 
Now  everybody  knows  that  a  considerable  depart- 
ure from  tlie  popular  faith,  though  it  is  merely  by 
being  in  advance  of  it,  is  apt  to  be  regarded  by  the 
multitude  not  simply  as  the  giving  up  of  one  view 
of  rehgion,  but  as  the  giving  up  of  all  religion. 
Hence  the  early  Christians  were  denounced  by  the 


INFIDELITY   OF   GREAT   MEN.  59 

pagan  world  as  "  atheists,"  and  persecuted  under 
that  name,  and  for  that  crime.  So  hkewise  in  the 
case  of  Socrates,  one  of  the  most  rehgious  men  in 
all  antiquity.  Very  probably  the  leading  politicians 
who  were  active  in  his  condemnation,  cared  but 
little  about  religion  in  any  way  ;  still  their  success 
was  mainly  owing  to  the  fact,  that  it  fell  in  with 
the  vulgar  clamor  against  him  as  an  over-curious 
sceptic,  and  impious  innovator.  First  of  all,  there- 
fore, I  insist  that  the  frequent  charge  against  great 
men  of  infidelity  and  irreligion,  when  resting  on  no 
better  foundation  than  popular  clamor,  is  to  be 
listened  to  in  all  cases  with  extreme  distrust. 

Consider  next  the  antagonisms  of  religious  sys- 
tems, and  the  jealousies  of  system-makers,  or  system- 
holders,  as  giving  rise  to  the  charge  in  question. 
A  system  of  philosophy  or  religion  is  neither  more 
nor  less  than  an  attempt  to  sum  up  and  reconcile 
the  facts  in  the  case,  as  understood  at  the  time.  Of 
course,  as  a  man's  knowledge  of  these  facts  is 
cleared  up,  or  refined,  or  enlarged,  his  system  must 
be  modified ;  and  sometimes  the  modification  is  radi- 
cal, leading  him  to  view  all  things  from  a  new 
stand-point,  and  under  new  connections  and  rela- 
tions. Whenever  this  happens,  the  partisans  of  the 
old  way  of  looking  at  the  subject  are  offended  and  per- 
plexed; they  hardly  know  what  to  make  of  it;  and 
in  their  impatience   are   ever  ready   to  charge  the 


60  INFIDELITY   OF   GREAT  MEN. 

new  system  with  being  not  merely  a  new  expo- 
sition of  what  was  believed  before,  but  a  real  or 
virtual  denial  of  it.  Hence  almost  every  philoso- 
pher who  has  attempted  a  new  solution  of  the 
great  problem  of  life,  or  of  the  universe,  has  been 
stigmatized  by  his  opponents,  at  least  in  the  be- 
ginning, as  an  atheist. 

So  it  was  with  Descartes,  the  great  reformer  of 
the  science  of  mind  in  the  seventeenth  century. 
By  candid  critics  he  has  been  thought  to  have  done 
more  for  religious  truths  and  realities  than  any 
other  philosopher,  by  the  clear  and  sharp  line  of 
demarcation  he  was  the  first  effectually  to  draw 
between  matter  and  spirit.  And  besides,  to  show 
how  far  he  was  from  denying  or  doubting  either 
the  being  or  the  perfections  of  God,  it  is  enough  to 
say,  that  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  his  system  con- 
sists in  making  every  form  of  human  certainty,  ex- 
cepting that  of  our  own  existence,  —  even  the  cer- 
tainty of  mathematical  demonstrations,  —  to  depend 
on  the  Divine  veracity.  All  this,  however,  could 
not  save  him  from  being  persecuted  and  driven  out 
of  Holland  as  an  atheist,  at  the  instigation  of  a 
knot  of  Protestant  divines. 

The  same  thing  was  soon  afterwards  attempted 
in  England  against  Locke,  though  by  no  means 
with  equal  success.  Locke's  whole  life,  and  all  his 
opinions,   as   far   as   developed    by   himself,  were    a 


INFIDEIITY  OF   GEE  AT  MEN.  61 

living  refutation  of  such  a  charge.  Moreover,  his 
celebrated  "  Essay  concerning  Human  Understand- 
ing "  gives  what  is  there  styled  "  a  demonstration " 
of  the  being  of  a  God,  and  lays  down  the  principle 
that  we  have  more  certain  evidence  of  the  Divine 
existence  than  we  have  of  the  existence  of  the  ex- 
ternal world.  His  "  Reasonableness  of  Cliristianity  " 
is  also  one  of  the  ablest  defences  of  revelation  ever 
made.  All  this,  however,  went  for  nothing  with  a 
party  who  were  alarmed  at  some  of  the  aspects  of 
his  system  of  philosophy,  and  the  freedom  of  some 
of  his  speculations,  and  a  cry  was  got  up,  that  he 
was  no  better  than  an  atheist  or  deist  "  in  dis- 
guise." 

Patience  in  speaking  of  such  conduct  would  seem 
at  first  sight  to  be  little  better  than  treason  to 
truth  and  right.  And  yet,  on  second  thoughts, 
why  all  this  surprise  and  indignation  at  a  fault  so 
easily  accounted  for  and  explained,  and  withal,  in 
its  various  degrees,  so  common  ?  Have  we  yet  to 
learn  how  few  there  are,  even  among  good  men, 
the  habits  of  whose  minds  will  allow  them  to  be 
just  to  the  opinions  of  their  opponents?  —  especially 
where,  as  in  this  case,  the  matters  in  dispute  are 
felt  to  be  of  great  practical  moment.  The  reason 
of  this  is  also  obvious.  We  see  the  opinions  of  our 
opponents  from  our  own  point  of  view,  and  not 
from  theirs ;   and  the   consequence   is,    that   we,   I 


62  INFIDELITY   OF   GREAT  MEN. 

might  almost  say,  by  necessity,  misconstrue  tliem. 
Thus  in  respect  to  the  misrepresentations  com- 
plained of  above :  every  man's  argument  for  the 
being  of  a  God  rests  on  certain  principles,  which 
to  his  mind  are  essential  to  the  conviction.  When, 
therefore,  these  principles,  or  any  of  them,  are  as- 
sailed, it  seems  to  him  as  if  a  blow  was  struck  at 
the  foundations  of  all  religion.  He  forgets  that 
principles  which  are  necessary  to  Jiis  faith,  or  at 
least  are  thought  by  him  to  be  necessary,  are  not 
so  to  that  of  his  neighbor,  who  believes  in  God  on 
totally  different  principles,  and  yet  believes  in  Him 
just  as  sincerely,  and  just  as  devoutly.  Let  us 
therefore  put  the  most  charitable  construction  on 
the  motives  of  these  traducers  ;  only  we  must  re- 
member that  they  are  traducers,  which  brings  us  to 
the  same  conclusion  as  before.  It  would  be  easy 
to  show,  on  historical  grounds,  that  a  considerable 
proportion  of  the  great  men  who  have  been  stigma- 
tized m  the  polemics  of  the  Church  as  unbelievers, 
have  done  nothing  whatever  to  warrant  the  re- 
proach. 

But  there  is  another  class  of  great  men  under 
charge  or  suspicion  of  unbelief,  who  cannot  be 
disposed  of  so  easily.  I  mean  those  who  have  in- 
dulged, more  or  less,  in  what  seem  infidel  specula- 
tions, and  are  often  claimed  by  infidels  as  of  their 
number,  yet  do   not   themselves   accept  the  name, 


INFIDELITY   OF   GREAT  MEN.  63 

nay,  sometimes  indignantly  disclaim  it.  To  this 
class  belong  several  of  the  uneasy,  questioning,  and 
fiery  spirits,  who  were  thrown  up  into  activity  and 
consequence  by  the  convulsions  growing  out  of  the 
Revival  of  Letters  and  the  Protestant  Reformation. 
I  am  not  sure  that  any  of  these  men  deserve  to  be 
called  great  thinkers ;  but  some  of  them  were  bold 
and  original  thinkers ;  and  in  their  first  attempts 
to  go  alone  they  often  lost  their  way,  and  wandered 
into  extravagances  which  can  hardly  be  reconciled 
either  with  religion  or  anything  else.  For  the  most 
part,  however,  they  indignantly  repelled  the  charge 
of  impiety  or  unbelief.  One  of  the  last  of  them, 
Vanini,  burnt  at  Toulouse  as  an  atheist,  in  1619,  on 
being  asked  at  his  trial  if  he  believed  in  God,  picked 
up  a  straw  from  the  floor,  and  holding  it  out  in 
his  hand,  said  to  his  judges,  "  This  straw,  if  there 
were  nothing  else,  would  constrain  me  to  confess  a 
Divine  Author  of  Nature." 

A  similar  remark  is  applicable  to  many  of  the 
great  metaphysical  thinkers  in  Germany,  in  recent 
times.  It  is  common  to  hear  these  men  referred 
to  as  the  deniers  and  subverters  of  religion,  —  the 
modern  Antichrist.  On  inquiry,  however,  it  will 
be  found  that  the  professed,  and,  as  far  as  I  can 
see,  the  real  purpose,  of  most  of  these  writers  was 
to  supplant  the  shallow  naturalism  and  rationalism 
already  existing  in  the  Church  by  a  more  profound 


64  INFIDELITY   OF   GKEAT  MEN. 

and  severe  philosophy,  —  a  philosophy,  also,  which 
would  retain  Christian  ideas  by  showing  that  they 
enter  into  and  make  part  of  the  highest  thought 
of  the  age.  Somebody,  in  defending  the  new  phi- 
losophy, had  presumed  to  institute  a  parallel  be- 
tween Kant's  system  of  morals  and  that  of  Jesus. 
But  Kant  himself,  to  whom  the  manuscript  was  sub- 
mitted, hastened  to  express  a  religious  horror  at 
the  sight  of  his  own  name  in  such  connection  with 
that  of  Christ.  He  begs  his  friend  not  to  publish 
the  work ;  or  if  he  should,  he  charges  him  to  erase 
the  offensive  parallel,  using  these  memorable  words : 
"  One  of  those  names,  that  before  which  the 
Heavens  bow,  is  sacred,  whilst  the  other  is  only 
that  of  a  poor  scholar,  endeavoring  to  explain,  to 
the  best  of  his  abilities,  the  teachings  of  his  Mas- 
ter." *  Hegel,  also,  professed  to  the  last  his  belief 
in  the  ordinary  faith  of  the  Lutheran  Church, 
and  held  it  to  be  a  principal  recommendation  of 
his  system,  that  it  supplied  a  scientific  basis  for 
what  are  called  "  evangelical  doctrines." 

Here,  then,  is  another  view  of  the  matter,  which 
strengthens  my  conviction  that  the  reputed  num- 
ber of  great  men  justly  chargeable  with  unbelief 
vastly  exceeds  the  real  number.  Even  of  those 
who  have  done  something  to  provoke,  and,  it  may 

*  Stapfcr's  Life  of  Kant,  a  translation  of  which  is  inserted  in  the 
Biblical  Repertory  (1828).    Vol.  IV.  p.  337. 


INFIDELITY  OF   GREAT  MEN.  65 

be,  to  authorize  the  suspicion  by  the  infidel  look  or 
tendency  of  their  speculations,  only  a  few,  a  very 
few,  have  professedly  taken  infidel  ground.  Pro- 
fessedly they  have  labored  to  reform,  and  in  some 
cases  to  restate  and  refound  the  popular  religion, 
in  order  to  reconcile  it  with  the  progress  of  thought 
on  other  subjects,  but  not  to  overthrow  it. 

"  What ! "  the  objector  will  say,  "  is  it  not  clear, 
that  whoever  accepts  this  or  that  doctrine,  or  adopts 
this  or  that  system,  cannot  consistently  believe  in 
Christianity?"  Grant  that  he  cannot  consistently; 
I  submit  that  this  is  not  the  question.  What 
hinders  him  from  doing  it  inconsistently,  —  yet  really 
and  sincerely?  Who  does  not  know  that  mankind 
are  full  of  inconsistencies  ?  Certainly,  therefore,  it 
would  be  taking  a  strange,  I  had  almost  said  a 
ludicrous  position,  to  assume  that  nothing  can  be 
true  of  a  man's  faith,  even  in  matters  the  most 
difficult,  abstract,  and  remote,  which  involve  an 
inconsistency  on  his  part.  In  such  a  case,  the  real 
or  alleged  inconsistency  is  nothing  to  one  who  does 
not  see  it.  To  your  eyes  the  faith  is  self-destructive, 
because  self-contradictory ;  but  to  his  eyes  it  is 
neither  the  one,  nor  the  other ;  that  is,  the  diffi- 
culty does  not  exist,  at  least  so  far  as  the  reality 
and  sincerity  of  his  faith  are  concerned. 

"  But  the  system,  as  carried  out  by  the  school, 
has  ended,  in  point  of  fact,  in  rank  infidelity,  per- 


66  INFIDELITY   OF   GREAT   LIEN. 

haps  in  rank  atheism."     To  this  I  reply,  first,  tliat 
for  "  school "  in  the  statement  under  consideration 
we  must  generally,  if  not  always,  read  "  some  of  the 
school."     The  system  of  Locke,  in  the  hands  of  his 
French  followers,  ended  in   the   denial  of  all  rehg- 
ion  ;   but  not  so  with  the  bulk  of  his  English  fol- 
lowers.     The   same  is   also  true   of  the   system  of 
Hegel,  the  last  and  most  extreme  form  of  German 
idealism :    while    one    wing    of   that    school    openly 
spurns    the  very    thought    of  God,   the    other    still 
adheres,  like  its   master,   not   only  to   Christianity, 
but   also   to   church    orthodoxy.      Besides,    suppose 
that  the  system,  when  fully  carried  out,  is  seen  by 
all  to  end  in  materialism,   fatalism,   pantheism,  —  I 
care  not  what.      You  have   a  right  to   charge   the 
legitimate   consequences  of  a  system  on  the  system 
itself;  but  not  on   the   author   of  the   system,  any 
further   than   you   have   reason   to   believe   that   he 
foresaw  and  accepted  them.     It  is  but  seldom  that 
all  the  legitimate  consequences  of  a  new  principle, 
of  a  new  system,  are  foreseen  or  even  suspected  at 
the   beginning.     When,   therefore,    a   religious   man 
invents   or   adopts   a   system,   which   afterwards   de- 
velops consequences  subversive  of  religion,  it  is  but 
fairness  to  assume,  that  he  was  not  aware  of  these 
consequences,  and   that  if  he   had   been,  he   would 
have  rejected  the  consequences,  and  the  system  too. 
"  Yes ;  but  infidels  claim  these  great  men  as  being 


INFIDELITY  OF   GREAT   MEN.  67 

on  their  side."  Very  likely  they  do,  and  for  obvious 
reasons.  Sylvain  Mardchal,  in  his  "  Dictionary  of 
Atheists,"  comprehends  in  his  list  almost  every  orig- 
inal thinker  whom  the  world  has  known.  In  the 
same  spirit,  Jeremy  Bentham  refers,  in  his  corre- 
spondence, again  and  again  to  private  conversations 
with  reputed  Christians,  including  several  digni- 
taries of  the  Church  of  England,  from  which  he 
chose  to  gather,  that  not  a  few  of  them  had  as 
little  faith  in  the  popular  religion  as  himself.  But 
what  does  this  prove  ?  There  are  two  ways  of  ac- 
counting for  these  absurd  imputations,  —  absurd,  at 
least,  in  the  extent  to  which  they  have  been  car- 
ried. In  the  first  place,  narrow-minded  and  con- 
ceited men,  —  men  who  see  clearly  perhaps  as  far  as 
they  see  at  all,  but  want  largeness  of  view,  —  are  apt 
to  think  that  whoever  agrees  with  them  in  some 
things,  must  agree  with  them  in  everything.  And, 
secondly,  in  the  case  under  consideration,  infidels 
are  strongly  tempted  by  the  desire,  consciously  or 
unconsciously  entertained,  to  make  up  for  the  want 
of  numbers  and  popular  sympathy  by  the  prestige 
of  great  names. 

My  conclusion  is,  that  there  are  no  just  grounds 
for  the  infidel  taunt,  that  great  men,  on  becoming 
great,  outgrow  Christianity. 

At  the  same  time,  we  must  take  care  not  to  fall 
into    the    opposite    error   of  making    too    much  of 


68  INFIDELITY   OF   GEEAT  MEN. 

greatness  in  this  connection.  The  Scriptures,  ex- 
perience, common-sense,  concur  in  protesting  against 
the  doctrine  that  men  are  always  or  generally  re- 
ligious or  Christian  in  proportion  to  their  abilities  or 
worldly  distinction.  Remember  our  Lord's  words : 
"  I  thank  thee,  0  Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and 
earth,  because  thou  hast  hid  these  things  from  the 
wise  and  prudent,  and  hast  revealed  them  unto 
babes."  Remember  also  what  was  said  by  an 
apostle :  "  For  ye  see  your  calling,  brethren,  how 
that  not  many  wise  men  after  the  flesh,  not  many 
mighty,  not  many  noble,  are  called." 

These  passages  are  to  be  explained,  it  is  true, 
and  limited  by  reference  to  the  times.  At  the  first 
promulgation  of  the  Gospel,  the  great  men  of  the 
day  were  committed  in  a  thousand  ways,  politically 
and  socially,  as  well  as  intellectually  and  relig- 
iously, to  the  established  worship.  If  they  knew 
more  than  others,  it  only  followed,  as  a  general 
rule,  that  they  had  so  much  the  more  to  unlearn 
before  they  were  in  a  condition  to  receive  the  new 
faith.  If,  as  was  generally  the  case,  they  looked 
down  with  contempt  or  indifference  on  the  faith 
and  rites  of  their  own  country,  they  were  not  likely 
to  entertain  much  respect  for  a  new  religious  move- 
ment, of  which  they  understood  nothing,  except  that 
it  was  an  offshoot  from  Judaism,  and  came  up  from 
the  depths  of  society.     We  mistake  the  matter  en- 


INFIDELITY   OF   GREAT  MEN.  69 

tirely,  if  we  suppose  that  the  great  men  of  Greece 
and  Rome  troubled  themselves  to  make  up  a  seri- 
ous and  well-considered  judgment  on  the  merits  or 
evidences  of  Christianity,  at  the  time  and  on  the 
spot.  They  rejected  it  without  examination,  just  as 
we  should  have  been  likely  to  do  in  their  place  ; 
and  this  being  the  case,  their  rejection  of  it,  no 
matter  what  may  have  been  their  competency  and 
opportunity  in  other  respects,  signifies  nothing. 

Accordingly,  in  looking  back  on  the  first  preach- 
ing of  the  Gospel,  we  do  not  deny,  we  do  not 
wonder,  that  it  was  the  common  people  almost  alone 
who  heard  it  "  gladly,"  while  the  bulk  of  what  are 
called  the  higher  classes,  the  really  great  and  the 
would-be  great,  stood  aloof.  Nevertheless,  we  say,  it 
was  not  for  anything  in  greatness  itself,  but  because 
their  greatness  placed  them  in  circumstances  which 
blinded  their  eyes  to  a  revelation  from  heaven. 

To  a  certain  extent  this  remark  applies,  also,  to 
the  great  men  of  succeeding  times.  Among  the 
adverse  circumstances  in  which  they  are  almost  al- 
ways placed,  we  may  mention,  first,  the  press  of 
worldly  avocations,  leaving  them  but  little  leisure 
to  bestow  on  religion.  It  is  so  particularly  with 
statesmen,  professional  men,  merchants  in  large  busi- 
ness, and  men  of  letters,  —  even  their  hours  of  ap- 
parent leisure  are  filled  with  care.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem,  it  is   nevertheless  true,   that  men  who   read 


70  INFIDELITY   OF   GREAT   MEN. 

the  most,  often  read  the  least  on  religious  subjects. 
If  a  man  has  but  one  book  in  the  world,  it  is  com- 
monly the  Bible;  and  if  he  reads  no  other  book, 
he  is  likely  to  read  that  so  much  the  more.  Ac- 
cordingly, we  must  not  be  surprised  if  we  often 
meet  with  men  who  are  great  and  learned  on  other 
subjects,  but  whose  knowledge  on  the  subject  of  re- 
ligion is  exceedingly  limited  and  superficial, — more 
so  than  that  of  many  in  the  humblest  walks  in  life. 
Again,  there  are  other  circumstances  incident  to 
superior  rank  and  learning,  but  adverse  to  religion. 
I  may  mention  first,  the  pride  of  standing  and  in- 
tellect engendered  by  the  consciousness  of  such 
superiority.  Minds  thus  affected  are  slow  to  look 
with  desire  or  respect  upon  gifts  and  graces  which 
God,  in  his  great  mercy,  has  placed  within  the 
reach  of  all.  There  is  also  the  secret  feeling,  no 
matter  how  unfounded  and  fallacious,  that  religion, 
though  necessary  perhaps  to  the  bulk  of  the  com- 
munity, is  not  so  to  them,  inasmuch  as  they  have 
substitutes  for  it  in  a  higher  culture,  in  philosophy, 
and  in  a  just  sense  of  character  and  reputation. 
Then,  too,  there  are  the  temptations  of  power,  and 
opportunity,  and  prosperity.  Great  men,  as  well  as 
others,  are  liable  to  prejudice,  vice,  and  worldly  am- 
bition, "  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  and  the  lust  of  the 
eye,  and  the  pride  of  life "  ;  and  these,  like  fevers 
in   the   strongest  constitutions,   are   often  found   to 


INFIDELITY   OF   GEEAT  MEN.  71 

produce  the  worst  effects  in  the  most  richly  en- 
dowed minds. 

Add  to  this,  that  men  are  often  accounted  great, 
and  justly  so,  because  they  are  great  in  particular 
things,  in  single  endowments,  —  for  example,  in 
mere  intellect,  or  in  mere  force  of  will.  Nobody 
denies  that  such  men  effect  great  changes  in  the 
world ;  yet  in  the  qualities  necessary  to  understand 
the  nature  of  Christianity,  or  even  to  appreciate  its 
evidences,  they  sometimes  fall  far  below  the  average 
of  mankind. 

Putting  all  these  things  together,  we  can  be  at 
no  loss  to  account  for  the  fact,  that  some  really 
great  men  reject  Christianity,  and  that  many  really 
great  men,  though  admitting  its  truth  and  obliga- 
tion, are  unfaithful  to  it.  In  no  case,  however,  is 
it  from  their  greatness  in  itself  considered ;  on  the 
contrary,  true  greatness  always  has  favored,  and 
always  will  favor  a  religious  interpretation  of  na- 
ture and  law,  of  human  life  and  human  destiny. 
If  I  were  asked  what  is  the  radical  difficulty  in 
religion  to  most  sceptics,  I  should  answer.  Because 
it  transcends  experience.  But  this  difficulty  will 
have  comparatively  but  little  weight  with  a  really 
great  man,  because,  by  his  discoveries,  inventions, 
and  conjectures,  he  is  continually  doing  the  very 
same  thing.  He  is  prepared  for,  he  is  continually 
expecting,    new    revelations    of  truth    and    reality. 


72  INFIDELITY   OF  GREAT  MEN. 

Moreover,  the  really  great  man  is  eminently  a  man 
of  faith.  What  made  Columbus  a  great  man  was 
not,  as  it  has  been  justly  said,  his  discovery  of  a 
new  world,  but  his  sailing  away  into  an  unknown 
and  trackless  ocean,  on  the  strength  of  his  faith  in 
an  idea. 

History  will  confirm  everything  I  have  said.  I 
cannot  recall  a  single  individual  of  the  very  high- 
est order  of  mind,  who  has  set  himself  in  oppo- 
sition to  religion.  The  active  enemies  of  religion 
are  mostly  made  up  of  men  ambitious  of  greatness, 
but  unable  to  achieve  it.  Stung  by  the  failure, 
they  have  turned  against  the  dearest  instincts  and 
the  most  sacred  traditions  of  mankind,  seeking,  and 
sometimes  finding,  in  this  reckless  course  the  vulgar 
substitute  for  greatness,  —  notoriety. 

If  then  you  are  at  any  time  tempted  to  abandon 
your  principles  and  hopes  as  Christians,  consider, 
I  beseech  you,  before  you  take  a  step  that  may  be 
irretrievable,  into  what  connection  and  fellowship 
it  will  bring  your  name  and  fortunes*  It  will  be 
with  men  who  owe  whatever  consequence  and  noto- 
riety they  have  obtained  much  less  to  any  supe- 
riority of  their  gifts  than  to  the  wantonness  in 
which  they  have  misapplied  what  gifts  they  had ; 
with  men,  who  even  when  they  have  taken  under 
their  protection  a  good  cause,  civil  liberty,  for  ex- 
ample, have  afterwards  almost  invariably  disgraced 


INFIDELITY    OF    GREAT   MEN.  73 

and  ruined  it  by  lawlessness  and  excess ;  —  with 
men  who  have  begun  with  denying  their  obliga- 
tions to  God,  and  commonly  ended  with  making  a 
jest  of  their  obligations  to  one  another; — with  men, 
m  fine,  who  would  take  from  human  nature  its 
principal  dignity  in  success,  its  principal  support  in 
trouble,  its  principal  guard  in  temptation,  leaving 
nothing  in  their  place  but  the  melancholy  pride 
of  thinking  to  be  able  to  see  what  others  cannot, — 
that  we  are  without  a  Father,  and  without  hope. 

And  you  who  are  almost  persuaded  to  become 
Christians,  consider  I  beseech  you,  with  whom  an 
earnest  and  humble  faith  will  bring  you  into  com- 
munion. It  will  bring  you  into  communion  with 
the  men  to  whom  the  world  is  indebted  for  almost 
every  advance  it  has  made  in  true  civilization.  It 
will  bring  you  into  communion  with  the  men  the 
monuments  of  whose  benevolent  enterprise  are  in 
every  land,  diffusing  the  inestimable  blessings  of 
truth  and  order  and  liberty.  It  will  bring  you 
into  communion  with  the  men  who  are  pledged 
in  a  thousand  ways  to  honor,  virtue,  and  philan- 
thropy ;  and  all  these  pledges  redeemed,  the  com- 
munion on  earth  will  become  a  communion  in 
heaven,  —  of  all  those  whose  names  are  written  in 
the  Book  of  Life. 


THE  INWARD   MANIFESTATION   OF   CHRIST. 

JUDAS    SAITH   UNTO    HIM,    (nOT    ISCARIOT,)    LORD,    HOW    IS    IT    THAT 
THOU    WILT    MANIFEST    THYSELF    UNTO    US,   AND    NOT     UNTO    THE 

WORLD  1  —  John  xiv.  22. 

The  disciple  who  put  this  question  to  our  Lord 
was  still  under  the  influence  of  that  prejudice  of 
his  countrymen,  which  led  them  to  expect  that 
when  the  Messiah  manifested  himself,  it  would  be 
by  openly  assuming  the  office  of  the  Restorer  of 
Israel.  But  this  step,  whenever  he  should  take  it, 
would  have  the  effect  to  manifest  him  to  his  ene- 
mies and  to  the  public,  as  well  as  to  his  immediate 
followers.  What  then  could  he  mean,  when  he 
spake,  as  he  had  just  been  doing,  of  manifesting 
himself  unto  his  disciples,  and  not  unto  the  world  ? 

No  proper  conception  had  as  yet  been  formed, 
even  by  the  Apostles,  of  that  inward  and  spiritual 
manifestation  of  himself  which  Christ  is  continually 
making  to  his  friends.  And  even  since  that  time, 
the  fate  of  this  doctrine  in  the  Church  has  not 
been   much  better.     In    the    hands  of  the    mystics, 


INWAP.D   MANIFESTATION  OF   CHRIST.  75 

witli  whom  it  has  always  been  a  favorite  topic,  it 
has  been  made  to  assume  so  preternatural,  so  fan- 
tastic, or  at  best  so  vague  and  shadowy  a  form,  as 
to  induce  sober-minded  and  practical  men  to  have 
as  little  to  do  with  it  as  possible.  But  this  is  not 
the  way,  as  it  seems  to  me,  in  which  we  should 
treat  any  solemn  and  emphatic  inculcation  of  the 
New  Testament ;  certainly  not  when,  as  in  the 
case  before  us,  it  can  be  vindicated  on  rational 
grounds,  and  set  in  a  clear  light,  from  its  con- 
formity to  one  of  those  great  laws  of  mind  and 
life  which  all  are  concerned  to  know. 

I  can  best  indicate  this  law  by  the  help  of  a 
familiar  illustration. 

Take  two  men  of  strongly  marked  characters,  and 
of  like  tastes,  dispositions,  and  pursuits,  —  two  poets, 
for  example,  two  men  of  business,  or  two  philan- 
thropists ;  let  there  be  no  occasion  of  jealousy  or 
rivalship  between  them,  and  it  is  obvious  that  they 
will  understand  and  appreciate  and  believe  each 
other  better  than  they  otherwise  would,  merely  be- 
cause on  the  great  subjects  on  which  they  think 
and  feel  most  deeply,  they  think  and  feel  in  com- 
mon. The  poet  will  understand,  appreciate,  and 
believe  the  poet ;  tlie  man  of  business  will  under- 
stand, appreciate,  and  believe  the  man  of  business  ; 
the  pliilanthropist  will  understand,  appreciate,  and 
believe  the  philanthropist.    Again,  let  the  conditions 


76  INWAED   JIAXIFESTATION   OF   CHRIST. 

of  the  supposed  case  be  reversed.  Bring  together 
a  poet  and  one  who  is  the  reverse  of  a  poet,  a 
business  man  and  a  recluse  student,  or  an  earnest 
philanthropist  and  a  heartless  egotist  and  trifler, 
and  what  will  follow  ?  Not  only  will  they  be  "  un- 
equally yoked  "  in  other  respects,  but  they  will  find 
it  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  understand,  ap- 
preciate, or  believe  each  other,  because  on  the  great 
subjects  on  which  they  think  and  feel  most  deeply, 
they  think  and  feel  diversely.  To  persons  of  such 
different  tastes,  dispositions,  and  pursuits,  not  only 
the  same  words,  but  the  same  actions  and  the 
same  things,  have  a  different  meaning,  that  is  to 
say,  tliey  will  suggest  different  and  sometimes  oppo- 
site ideas  and  trains  of  thought.  In  common  and 
every-day  affairs  such  men  may  get  along  well 
enough  together,  because  here  the  distinctive  pecu- 
liarities of  neither  party  are  much  brought  out ; 
but  let  them  be  put  into  situations  in  which  these 
peculiarities  are  brought  out  strongly,  and  the  life 
of  each  will  become  a  marvel,  a  puzzle,  an  in- 
solvable  mystery  to  the  other. 

The  fact,  I  suppose,  will  be  generally  admitted, 
as  here  stated ;  and  by  penetrating  a  little  deeper 
we  shall  find  an  explanation  of  the  fact.  Words, 
of  themselves^  reveal  nothing.  When  we  speak  of 
colors  or  odors,  pleasures  or  pains,  it  is  always  on 
the   supposition  that   those   whom  we  address   have 


INWARD   MANIFESTATION  OF   CHRIST.  77 

experienced  these  sensations :  else  we  should  not 
expect  to  be  understood.  The  same  is  true  when 
we  speak  of  courage,  pity,  generosity,  self-devotion : 
we  presume  that  those  whom  we  address  have  had 
some  experience  of  these  affections ;  otherwise,  we 
should  not  expect  to  be  understood.  And  this  re- 
mark extends  also  to  natural  language, — to  looks 
and  gestures,  —  even  to  actions  themselves,  when 
considered  as  expressing  the  principles  or  emotions 
from  which  they  spring.  To  those  who  have  had 
some  experience  of  these  principles  or  emotions, 
who  know  what  acting  from  them  is,  and  what  it 
means,  these  actions  will  be  as  external  signs  of  the 
principles  or  emotions  to  which  they  belong :  to 
others  they  will  signify  nothing.  This  is  the  reason 
why  men  who  are  conscious  of  acting  from  none 
but  low  and  sordid  motives,  come  at  length  to  deny 
or  doubt  the  existence  of  higher  motives.  Again,  it 
is  the  reason  why,  in  an  age  of  formalism  in  relig- 
ion and  general  profligacy  of  manners,  if  a  prophet, 
a  martyr,  or  a  radical  reformer  appears,  he  is 
everywhere  cried  out  upon  as  an  impracticable 
man,  a  fanatic,  and  a  "  dreamer  of  dreams,"  —  per- 
haps as  insane.  It  is  not  merely^  as  some  would 
seem  to  think,  because  his  rebukes  and  warnings 
are  offensive  and  irritating  ;  but  because  his  whole 
being  is  a  moral  enigma ;  because  he  cannot  make 
himself  to  be  understood  by  persons  so  unlike  him- 
self. 


78  INWARD   MANIFESTATION   OF   CHRIST. 

This  then  is  the  conclusion  to  which  we  are 
brought.  Conduct^  in  the  largest  sense  of  that  word, 
—  conduct  considered  as  including  the  principles 
of  action,  as  well  as  the  actions  themselves,  is  prop- 
erly and  fully  intelligible  only  in  so  far  as  men  are 
educated  up  to  the  same  level  of  moral  progress. 
"Where  all  participation  stops,  all  sympathy  stops ; 
and  where  all  sympathy  stops,  all  true  and  living 
communication,  all  true  and  living  manifestation, 
stops. 

To  all  this  it  may  be  objected  that  "  humanity  is 
entire  in  every  individual";  —  that  is  to  say,  every 
individual  has  sometliing  of  every  human  quality, 
enough  in  degree  to  prepare  him  to  understand 
and  believe  in  the  existence  of  that  quality  in  any 
degree  in  another  person.  But,  in  the  first  place, 
I  deny  that  the  higher  virtues  do  exist  even  in  a 
degree  in  all  minds, .  if  by  this  is  understood  ex- 
istence in  a  state  of  actual  development.  The  germs 
of  -all  human  qualities  are  to  be  fouiid,  I  suppose, 
in  every  human  soul ;  but  it  does  not  follow  that 
all  these  germs  have  even  so  much  as  begun  to  be 
unfolded,  and  until  this  takes  place  the  individual 
is  not  conscious  of  them  ;  that  is,  they  are  to  him 
as  if  they  were  not.  Admitting,  however,  for  tlie 
sake  of  the  argument,  that  all  virtues  do  exist  in 
all  minds,  the  only  difference  being  a  difference  of 
degree,  who  does  not   perceive   that  this  difference 


INWARD   MANIFESTATION   OF    CHRIST.  T9 

of  degree  is  alone  sufficient  to  give  rise  to  a  want 
of  mutual  understanding  and  sympathy  ?  Of  course 
a  man  who  has  actually  felt  compassion,  for  ex- 
ample, though  in  a  low  degree,  must  have  some 
idea  of  what  is  meant  by  compassion  in  general,  and 
even  of  compassion  considered  as  existing  in  much 
higher  degrees.  Still  it  is  found,  in  a  practical 
view  of  the  subject,  that  men  are  extremely  scepti- 
cal, if  not  absolutely  incredulous,  as  to  the  actual 
existence  of  any  feeling  or  moral  sentiment  in  a 
degree  much  above  that  to  which  they  have  them- 
selves attained.  Hence  it  is  that  selfish  and  narrow- 
minded  men  always  suspect  the  disinterested  vir- 
tues ;  and  hence,  too,  cold  and  phlegmatic  men  are 
apt  to  suspect  the  sincerity  of  enthusiasts,  and  to 
look  around  for  by-motives  —  how  unreasonably,  I 
need  not  say.  Enthusiasts  have  their  full  share  of 
imperfections,  I  allow ;  but  it  does  not  require  mucli 
reflection  to  perceive  that  they  are  among  the  last 
people  in  the  world  to  play  a  part.  The  cold  and 
phlegmatic  are  much  more  likely  to  be  insincere 
even  in  the  little  to  which  they  pretend.  Neverthe- 
less, such  is  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind 
that  we  find  it  extremely  difficult,  in  practice,  to 
believe  in  the  actual  existence  of  any  feeling  or 
virtue  in  a  degree  so  much  above  that  in  which 
we  possess  it  as  to  be  beyond  our  sympatliy.  We 
may  not  choose  to  pronounce   the  feeling  or  virtue, 


80  INWARD   MANIFESTATION   OF   CHRIST. 

SO  much  above  our  own,  to  be  a  pretence,  an  im- 
posture, an  impossibility ;  still  we  shall  be  very 
likely  to  act  under  a  vague  impression  that,  some- 
how or  other,  it  is  in  part  at  least  unreal.  As  was 
said  before,  where  all  participation  ends  all  sym- 
pathy ends,  and  where  all  sympathy  ends  all  mutual 
understanding  and  all  proper  communication  end. 

This  then  would  seem  to  be  a  universal  law.  I 
have  taken  some  pains  to  set  it  in  as  clear  a  light 
as  I  could,  on  account  of  its  wide  and  manifold 
practical  applications  ;  but  of  these  the  only  one  to 
be  insisted  on  here  respects  the  doctrine  of  the 
text :  Jesus  Christ  manifesting  himself  to  his  friends, 
and  not  to  the  world. 

By  this  manifesting  of  Christ  we  understand  the 
manifesting  of  what  is  Divine  in  his  doctrine,  his 
person,  and  his  life ;  causing  it  to  be  perceived, 
comprehended,  and  felt.  But,  according  to  the  law 
just  laid  down,  that  we  may  comprehend  and  be 
assured  of  Divinity  anywhere,  it  is  necessary  that 
what  is  Divine  in  our  own  nature  should  first  be 
awakened  and  developed,  so  as  to  bring  us  into 
communication  with  it.  To  whom  is  manifested 
what  is  Divine  in  the  outward  universe  ?  It  docs 
not  depend  on  the  perfection  of  the  outward  senses ; 
nor  yet  on  the  acuteness  or  comprehensiveness  of 
the  pure  intellect :  for  there  have  been  men,  all 
whose   perceptive   and   logical   powers   were   of  the 


INWAKD   MANIFESTATION   OF   CHRIST.  81 

highest  order,  who  yet  could  see  nothing  in  the 
material  world  but  the  play  of  a  mute  and  dead 
machinery,  obeying  the  laws  of  a  necessity  as  mute 
and  dead  as  itself.  And  this,  I  suppose,  would 
always  be  the  tendency  of  our  intellectual  faculties 
if  we  had  no  other  faculties,  —  if  we  were  all  head 
and  no  heart,  —  if  we  had  not  moral  and  spiritual 
sensibilities  to  be  touched  by  the  countless  traces 
of  a  righteous  rule,  a  beneficent  purpose,  and  a 
Father's  care.  I  might  go  further  still :  I  might 
say,  that  it  is  only  in  so  far  as,  in  the  language  of 
Scripture,  we  become  "-partakers  of  the  Divine  na- 
ture "  that  we  can  enter  into  or  even  approximate, 
the  full  significancy  of  the  Divinity  of  God.  Many 
hold,  and,  as  I  believe,  on  good  evidence,  that  there 
never  was  a  people  so  ignorant  and  degraded  as  to 
have  no  object  of  worship,  —  no  God  at  all ;  but 
how  different  that  God,  beginning  with  the  rude 
fetich  before  which  the  savage  mutters  his  incanta- 
tions, and  attaining  at  last  to  the  Judge  and  Father 
of  all  whom  the  enlightened  Christian  loves,  trusts, 
and  adores.  And  this  change  is  found  to  keep 
pace,  in  every  country  and  in  every  age,  with  the 
progressive  development  of  men's  moral  and  spir- 
itual ideas. 

All  this  will  be  readily  conceded,  perhaps,  as  re- 
gards those  who  are  left  to  depend  for  their  moral 
and    rehgious    knowledge    on    the    light    of  nature 

4*  F 


82  INWARD   MANIFESTATION   OF   CHRIST. 

alone  ;  "  but  not  so,"  some  will  say,  "  with  us  who 
have  the  Bible  in  our  hands,  clearly  manifesting 
God  and  Christ  to  all^  —  alike  to  the  righteous  and 
to  the  wicked,  —  to  those  who  think,  and  to  those 
who  do  not." 

Nothing-  can  well  be  further  from  the  truth  than 
such  a  statement.  Need  I  say  again  that  words 
of  themselves  reveal  nothing  ;  that  the  only  mean- 
mg  which  any  words  have,  or  can  have,  is  that 
which  we  give  to  them,  and  which  we  must  first 
have  in  our  minds  in  order  to  give.  We  can  take 
up  the  language  of  Scripture,  I  know,  and  call  God 
"holy,"  "just,"  and  "good"  ;  but  what  these  words 
will  really  signify  to  our  minds  must  depend  ou 
our  own  ideas  of  what  constitutes  holiness,  justice, 
and  goodness.  Of  course  our  conceptions  of  the 
Deity  must  still  vary  according  to  the  degree  of 
purity  and  elevation  which,  from  a  true  Christian 
culture,  our  own  moral  and  spiritual  ideas  have  at- 
tained. Who  then  will  pretend,  though  we  do  have 
the  same  Bible,  that  what  is  Divine  in  the  teach- 
ings and  life  of  Jesus  is  manifested  alike  to  all  ? 
Take  any  part  of  his  discourses,  —  the  Beatitudes,  for 
example,  —  and  who  does  not  perceive  how  much 
more  meaning  benevolent  and  devout  men  will  at- 
tach to  the  words  than  others  do  or  can  ?  with 
how  much  more  life,  force,  and  distinctness  every- 
thing will  be  apprehended,  merely  because  the  read- 


INWARD  MANIFESTATION   OF   CHRIST.  83 

er's  mind  is  tlioro uglily  imbued  with  the  spirit  which 
the  passage  breathes  ?  Above  all,  who  can  enter 
into,  or  practically  understand,  the  deep  spiritual 
experiences  of  Christ,  —  his  inmost  springs  of  ac- 
tion,—  the  life  of  his  life,  —  if  he  is  a  stranger  to  like 
aspirations?  Or,  take  the  holy  Communion,  —  who 
will  say  that  Christ  is  manifested  equally  and  ahke 
to  all  persons,  whether  devout  or  undevout,  in  that 
solemn  service  ?  Alas  for  us !  take  the  best  man 
that  lives,  and,  from  want  of  a  like  elevation  of 
soul,  how  inadequately  must  he  be  able  to  sympa- 
thize with,  or  comprehend,  in  all  its  extent,  that 
sublime  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  which  moved  the  Sin- 
less One  to  lay  down  his  life  for  a  guilty  world ! 

But  here  a  difticulty  presents  itself,  which  we 
must  not  pass  over  without  a  word  of  explanation. 
"  We  are  to  be  made  good  by  what  the  Scriptures 
reveal,  and  yet  it  now  appears  that  it  is  only  in 
proportion  as  we  have  become  good  that  we  can 
enter  fully  and  entirely  into  the  meaning  and  spirit 
of  what  is  there  revealed.  Is  not  this  making  the 
effect  to  come  before  the  cause  ?  "  I  answer  :  In  most 
things  we  must  first  know,  in  order  to  love  and  prac- 
tise ;  but  in  morals  and  religion  the  rule  is  often 
reversed,  —  we  must  first  love  and  practise  in  order 
to  know.  "  What,  then,  is  to  induce  us  to  love  and 
practise  ?  "  I  answer  again :  By  our  trials  and  fail- 
ures,   by   meditation    and    earnest   prayer,    there    is 


84  INWARD   MANIFESTATION   OF   CHRIST. 

awakened  in  iis  a  deep  sense  of  moral  and  spiritual 
wants,  which  are  feebly  represented  by  the  physical 
cravings  of  hunger  and  thirst,  —  wants  which  we 
feel  and  know  the  world  cannot  satisfy ;  and  this 
leads  us  to  look  beyond  and  above  the  world. 
Christianity  proffers  us,  while  in  this  state  of  mind, 
the  means  of  the  great  salvation,  which  we  must 
accept,  in  the  first  instance,  walking,  for  the  most 
part,  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight ;  for  it  is  not  until 
we  have  experienced  their  adaptation  to  the  soul, 
and  their  harmony  with  eternal  truth,  that  our 
trust  is  changed  into  assurance,  and  our  hope  into 
fruition  and  peace.  Nor  does  it  end  with  begin- 
ning. Every  new  moral  and  spiritual  aspiration 
prepares  the  way  for  a  new  revelation  of  moral 
and  spiritual  truth ;  and  this  again  elevates  us,  so 
to  express  it,  to  a  higher  level  of  the  soul's  pro- 
gress, from  which  still  higher  aspirations  may  com- 
mence. Thus  it  is  that  Jesus  is  continually  mani- 
festing himself,  and  manifesting  himself  more  and 
more  unto  his  friends,  and  not  unto  the  world. 

Behold  why  it  is  that  Christianity,  with  the  same 
Bible  to  define  and  expound  it,  is  so  different  a 
thing  in  one  age  from  what  it  is  in  another,  in  one 
country  from  what  it  is  in  another,  to  one  person 
from  what  it  is  to  another.  Behold  also  the  element 
of  progress  in  Christianity,  linking  it  indissolubly, 
by   the    ties   of  a  mutual   dependence,   to  the   pro- 


INWARD   MANIFESTATION   OF   CHRIST.  85 

gressive  civilization  of  the  world,  and  the  progressive 
education  of  the  human  race.  Behold,  moreover, 
how  much  less  the  highest  manifestations  of  re- 
vealed truth  depend  on  the  exclusive  culture  of  the 
sciences  of  logic  and  interpretation,  than  upon  the 
actual  progress  which  a  whole  people  has  made  in 
liberty,  holiness,  and  love.  After  all,  there  are 
depths  in  the  divinity  of  our  Saviour's  teachings 
and  life,  into  the  full  significancy  of  which  we  can- 
not hope  to  enter,  so  long  as  our  sj^ritual  vision  is 
dimmed  by  the  mists  of  earthly  prejudice,  earthly 
passions,  and  earthly  care.  "  What  I  do,"  said  our 
Saviour,  "  thou  knowest  not  now  ;  but  thou  shalt 
know  hereafter."  The  revelations  of  eternity  must 
come  in  to  solve  the  enigmas  of  time.  "  It  doth 
not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be  ;  but  we  know 
that,  when  Christ  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like 
him  " ;  and  because  we  are  like  him,  "  we  shall  see 
him  as  he  is.  And  every  man  that  hath  this  hope 
in  him,  purifieth  himself,  even  as  He  is  pure." 


THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH. 

THE  SABBATH  WAS  MADE  FOR  MAN,  AND  NOT  MAN  FOR  THE 

SABBATH.  —  Mark  ii.  27. 

When  it  is  said  that  "  the  Sabbath  was  made  for 
man,"  the  meaning  is,  that  it  was  made  for  his  use 
and  benefit.  It  does  not  mean  that  he  has  a  right 
to  use  it,  or  not ;  nor  yet  that  it  is  his  in  such  a 
sense,  that  he  has  a  right  to  put  it  to  whatever 
use  he  pleases.  It  still  supposes  that  the  Sabbath 
has  its  appropriate  and  legitimate  uses,  and  that 
it  is  the  duty  of  every  individual  to  ascertain  what 
these  uses  are,  and  avail  himself  of  them. 

They  are  reducible,  as  it  seems  to  me,  to  two : 
rest  from  secular  labor,  and  opportunity  for  moral 
and  religious  culture. 

Some  have  thought  to  add  to  these  a  third, 
namely,  the  favor  and  content  of  the  people,  se- 
cured by  giving  part  of  the  day  at  least  to  social 
pleasures  and  recreations.  This  appears  to  have 
been  the  policy  of  the  Catholic  Church  from  remote 
ages.      It   was  adopted  by  the  Anglican  Church  in 


THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH.  87 

its  early  struggles  with  the  Puritans,  and  did  as 
much,  perhaps,  as  any  other  one  thing  to  drive  to 
extreme  measures  that  austere  and  uncompromising 
sect.  At  this  moment  on  the  continent  of  Europe 
this  policy  is  understood  to  be  almost  universal 
among  Christians  of  all  denominations. 

We  have  a  right  to  ask.  Has  it  worked  well  ? 
Certainly  not,  if  we  are  to  find  the  answer  in  the 
results.  All  agree  that  in  those  countries  where 
it  has  most  prevailed  there  has  been  a  lamentable 
falling  away  from  the  ancient  strictness  of  faith  and 
practice.  I  know  it  is  common  to  ascribe  this  de- 
fection, so  far  as  Protestant  countries  are  concerned, 
to  the  sceptical  or  unspiritual  writings  of  critics  and 
philosophers.  But  whence  these  writings  ?  Why 
there  more  than  here  ?  As  a  general  rule  it  will 
be  found  that  they  have  but  attended  and  re- 
flected, step  by  step  in  the  downward  course,  the 
sceptical  or  unspiritual  state  of  the  public  mind. 
The  writings  have  not,  to  any  considerable  extent, 
caused  the  evil ;  they  have  only  reflected  it.  The 
cause,  as  it  seems  to  me,  is  still  to  be  traced,  in 
no  small  part,  to  the  neglect  or  misappropriation 
of  holy  time ;  first,  by  the  higher  classes  only ;  at 
last,  by  all  classes. 

Could  anything  better  have  been  expected  ?  Un- 
doubtedly it  is  desirable  that  Sunday  should  be  the 
happiest  day  of  the  seven  ;  but  then  it  should  be- 


88  THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH. 

come  so  by  our  loving  its  appropriate  and  legiti- 
mate uses,  and  not  by  our  turning  it  to  other  and 
inconsistent  uses.  But  what,  you  may  ask,  is  to 
be  done  for  those  who  have  no  taste,  as  yet,  for 
religious  exercises,  and  no  inclination  for  self-com- 
munion, or  moral  and  spiritual  culture  ? 

I  answer,  that  Sunday,  and  the  whole  of  Sunday, 
should  be  devoted  to  giving  them  this  taste,  and 
this  inclination.  I  do  not  deny  that  there  are  such 
things  as  gloom  and  asceticism ;  these  w^e  are  to 
avoid  in  our  Sabbatical  observances,  as  well  as  in 
everything  else.  But  gloom  and  asceticism  do  not 
come  from  giving  too  much  time  to  religion  ;  they 
come  from  false  views  of  religion. 

Besides,  I  cannot  help  observing  generally,  in  this 
connection,  that  modern  sentimentalism  has  a  little 
too  much  to  say  about  happiness  in  religion,  — 
happiness  as  pertaining  not  only  to  the  mature 
life  of  the  Christian,  but  also  to  the  process  by 
which  that  life  is  formed.  In  looking  to  the  prom- 
ises of  Scripture  it  is  apt  to  overlook  the  conditions 
on  which  these  promises  are  suspended.  We  are 
told,  it  is  true,  that  ^^ perfect  love  casteth  out  fear"  ; 
but  the  love  of  most  persons,  and  even  of  most 
Christians,  is  far  from  being  "  perfect "  ;  hence  that 
other  Scripture,  "  Work  out  your  own  salvation 
with  fear  and  trembling y  We  must  take  things 
as  they  are  ;   we  must  take  man  as  he  is.      When 


THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH.  89 

we  consider  how  much  the  best  of  us  have  to  look 
back  upon  eacli  week  that  ought  to  humble  us,  and 
fill  us  with  regret  and  anxiety,  every  one  must 
perceive  that  the  duties  of  Sunday,  which  consist 
pre-eminently  of  self-examination,  and  the  offices  of 
penitence  and  prayer,  cannot,  if  faithfully  performed, 
dispose  men  to  merry-making  of  any  kind,  or  be 
reconciled  with  it.  There  is  a  serious  joy  which  ac- 
companies every  well-directed  effort  for  self-improve- 
ment;  this  joy  belongs  especially  to  Sunday,  and 
with  it  we  should  be  content. 

Still  the  question  may  be  pressed,  "Is  it  not  better 
that  the  irreligious  part  of  the  community  should 
be  accustomed  to  connect  Sunday  with  agreeable 
rather  than  with  disagreeable  associations  ? "  Un- 
doubtedly it  is  ;  provided  only,  that  tlie  appropriate 
and  legitimate  uses  of  the  institution,  to  themselves 
or  others,  are  not  frustrated  or  essentially  com- 
promised thereby.  But  remember,  our  principal 
objection  to  the  intrusion  of  worldly  cares  and  rec- 
reations into  consecrated  hours  is  not,  tliat  they 
take  up  the  time  needed  for  more  important  objects, 
though  this  alone  would  be  insuperable,  but  that 
their  tendency  is  to  dissipate  the  mind,  and  divert 
it  from  that  profound  seriousness,  without  whicli 
the  exercises  of  religion,  however  punctiliously  and 
sanctimoniously  gone  through  with,  degenerate  into 
a  form  of  godliness  without  the  power.      Christian- 


90  THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH. 

ity  was  not  given  in  order  to  multiply  amusements 
for  tlie  irreligious  part  of  the  community.  God 
forbid,  that  we  should  try,  or  wish,  to  make  the 
sinner  happy  in  his  sins,  or  in  the  neglect  or  mis- 
appropriation of  one  of  the  principal  means  by 
which  he  is  likely  to  be  reclaimed  from  his  sins. 

I  return,  therefore,  to  the  position  taken  in  the 
beginning  of  this  discourse.  The  benefits  resulting 
from  the  Christian  Sabbath  are  reducible  to  two, — 
rest  from  secular  cares,  and  opportunity  for  moral 
and  religious  culture. 

It  is  common  to  dwell  on  these  with  special 
reference  to  the  wants  of  the  uneducated  and  labor- 
ing classes,  meaning  by  the  laboring  classes  those 
who  labor  with  their  hands.  Here  it  may  not  be 
amiss  to  reverse  the  practice,  and  consider  this 
whole  subject  with  particular  reference  to  the  duty 
and  the  needs  of  men  who  labor  with  their  minds, 
—  the  scholar's  Sabbath  day. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  obvious  that  students, 
professional  men,  and  men  of  letters,  from  the  very 
nature  of  their  occupations,  are  peculiarly  in  danger 
of  neglecting  the  duties  and  losing  the  advantages 
of  a  weekly  day  of  rest.  The  husbandman  pur- 
sues his  calling  in  the  open  fields  ;  the  mechanic 
in  the  noisy  workshop  ;  the  mercantile  classes  in  the 
market-place,  and  the  thronged  city.  Their  work, 
therefore,  must  be  suspended.    Its  continuance  would 


THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH.  91 

arrest  public  attention,  and  neither  public  opinion 
nor  the  laws  of  the  land  would  allow  it  to  go  on, 
as  it  would  interfere  with  the  proper  observance  of 
the  day  by  others.  But  no  such  external  restraint 
is  felt  by  the  scholar,  or  the  professional  man. 
Neither  the  law  nor  public  opinion  follows  him 
home,  to  pronounce  judgment  on  what  he  reads  or 
thinks  ;  and  consequently  there  is  nothing  but  his 
own  sense  of  propriety  to  hinder  him  from  reading 
the  same  books,  and  pursuing  the  same  investiga- 
tions, on  Sunday  as  on  other  days.  Nor  is  this  all. 
Even  his  own  sense  of  propriety  will  be  apt  to  be 
blinded  or  misled  on  this  particular  question  by  a 
vague  notion,  not  luifrequently  entertained,  that 
Sunday,  as  a  day  of  rest,  was  intended  for  what 
arc  called,  by  way  of  distinction,  the  laboring  classes  ; 
and  again,  that  Sunday,  as  a  day  for  moral  and  re- 
ligious instruction,  was  intended  chiefly  for  the  un- 
educated classes. 

Both  these  assumptions,  I  think  it  will  not  be 
difiicult  to  show,  are  unfounded. 

First,  as  to  the  benefits  of  a  day  of  rest  to  those 
who  labor  with  their  minds,  and  not  with  their 
hands.  In  reply  to  the  objection  sometimes  made, 
that  it  is  a  loss  of  so  much  time,  at  least  as  re- 
gards men's  worldly  occupations,  it  has  been  proved 
again  and  again  in  respect  to  bodily  labor,  that 
more  work   is  probably   done   in    the  course  of  the 


92  THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH. 

year  with  this  occasional  respite,  than  would  or 
could  be  done  without  it.  The  same  is  also  true 
of  mental  toil.  None  of  our  faculties  or  organs 
appear  to  be  so  constituted  as  to  be  able  to  bear 
a  long-continued  strain.  The  brain  may  be  over- 
loaded and  overworked  as  well  as  the  stomach  or 
the  limbs  ;  and  this  overworking  depends  quite  as 
much  —  nay,  I  think  I  may  say,  a  great  deal  more 
—  on  its  being  unremitted,  than  on  its  being  in- 
tense for  a  time.  Who  has  never  gazed  at  an 
object  until  all  clearness  and  distinctness  of  vision 
was  lost?  Who  has  never  studied  a  subject  day 
after  day  without  being  able  to  master  it ;  but  upon 
giving  his  mind  a  little  time  for  relaxation,  and  then 
returning  to  it  again,  has  been  able  to  master  it  at 
once  ? 

I  grant  that  persons  raised  above  the  necessity 
of  manual  labor  belong,  as  a  general  rule,  to  that 
portion  of  the  community  which  can  best  afford  to 
live  at  ease.  On  this  account  it  is  true  perhaps,  as 
a  general  rule,  that  they  are  less  likely,  than  the 
humbler  classes,  to  overtask  themselves,  or  be  over- 
tasked by  others ;  and  hence  it  may  be  inferred 
that  they  do  not  stand  so  much  in  need  of  an  ap- 
pointed and  legalized  day  of  rest.  But  in  estimating 
the  value  of  an  institution  like  this  to  a  class,  it  is 
not  enough  to  know  whether  many  or  few  will  be 
affected  by  it   directly.      Only  a  few  may  be  bene- 


THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH.  93 

fited  by  it  directly;  and  yet  through  them  the 
benefits  resulting  from  it  indirectly  to  the  whole 
community  may  be  immense.  Let  it  be  that  but  a 
small  proportion  of  students  and  professional  or 
public  men  stand  much  in  need  of  the  physical  re- 
lief which  Sunday  brings,  or  ought  to  bring,  to  the 
overworked  mind;  still  we  should  remember  that, 
small  as  this  proportion  is,  it  will  probably  com- 
prise the  elite,  —  those  from  whom  the  world  has 
most  to  hope.  Though  they  do  not  constitute  the 
majority  of  the  class,  they  probably  constitute  those 
who  have  most  influence  in  the  class;  — in  propor- 
tion of  numbers  not  more,  perhaps,  than  one  to  a 
hundred,  yet  in  proportion  of  merit  and  pubhc  prom- 
ise it  may  be  as  a  hundred  to  one.  Any  institu- 
tion, therefore,  which  tends  to  keep  eager  and  earnest 
minds  of  this  description  from  premature  death,  or 
from  lingering  disease  which  is  the  death  of  their 
prospects  and  their  usefulness,  is  an  incalculable 
good,  not  only  to  them,  but  to  the  whole  class  and 
the  whole  community. 

Imperfectly  as  the  day  is  kept,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  it  prevents  much  evil  in  this  way;  if 
it  were  kept  as  it  ought  to  be,  it  would  prevent 
much  more.  I  have  no  occasion  to  press  any  arou- 
ment  beyond  what  it  will  easily  bear.  I  am  willing 
to  suppose  that  the  early  decline,  not  infrequent  in 
the    class    of   young  persons    of  whom   the  highest 


94  THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH. 

hopes  are  entertained,  is  often  to  be  traced  to  that 
peculiar  sensitiveness  of  the  nervous  system,  or  that 
peculiar  delicacy  of  organization,  which  belongs  to 
precocious  minds.  Still  physical  differences  of  this 
description  can  only  be  regarded  as  predisposing, 
and  not  as  proximate,  causes  of  disease.  Even  in 
such  cases,  therefore,  it  is  still  true,  that  the  proxi- 
mate cause  of  disease  is  almost  always  over-exertion, 
—  over-exertion  for  such  a  constitution-;  and  this 
over-exertion  would  certainly  be  less  likely  to  take 
place  if  secular  studies  and  secular  thoughts  were 
not  allowed  to  encroach  on  holy  time. 

And  so  in  after  life.  Here,  too,  the  most  valu- 
able lives  are  most  in  jeopardy,  because  most  likely 
to  be  pressed  and  importuned  by  important  business 
and  public  cares.  There  is  good  reason  to  believe 
that  a  proper  observance  of  the  Lord's  day  would 
have  saved  many  such  lives  from  a  premature  and 
melancholy  close.  Mr.  Wilberforce,  after  hearing 
that  Lord  Castlereagh  had  destroyed  himself,  wrote 
as  follows  in  his  diary :  "  He  was  certainly  de- 
ranged,—  the  effect  probably  of  continued  wear  and 
tear  of  mind.  But  the  strong  impression  of  my 
mind  is,  that  it  is  the  effect  of  the  non-observanco 
of  Sunday,  both  as  abstracting  from  politics,  from 
the  constant  recurrence  of  the  same  reflections,  and 
as  correcting  the  false  views  of  worldly  things,  and 
bringing  them  down  to  their  true  diminutiveness." 


THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH.  95 

Again,  writing  to  a  friend,  and  referring  to  a  similar 
catastrophe  in  the  case  of  another  eminent  individ- 
iial.  Sir  Samuel  Romilly,  he  says :  "  I  am  strongly 
impressed  by  the  recollection  of  your  endeayor  to 
prevail  on  the  lawyers  to  give  up  Sunday  consulta- 
tions, in  which  poor  Romilly  would  not  concur.  If 
he  had  suffered  his  mind  to  enjoy  such  occasional 
remissions,  it  is  highly  probable  the  strings  would 
never  have  snapped,  as  they  did,  from  over-tension."  * 

Thus  much  in  proof  that  eager  and  faithful  stu- 
dents, including  also  all  men  of  large  cares  and 
earnest  thought,  stand  in  need  of  Sunday  as  a  day 
of  rest  from  mental  toil.  They  also  stand  in  need 
of  it  as  a  day  of  religious  instruction  and  moral 
and  spiritual  culture. 

And,  first,  as  regards  religious  instruction.  Be- 
cause a  man  knows  one  thing  very  well,  we  are  apt 
to  presume  that  lie  knows  other  things ;  but  this  by 
no  means  follows.  For  example  :  because  a  man  is 
an  eminent  naturalist,  it  does  not  follow  that  he 
knows  everything,  or  anything,  about  ethics  or  politi- 
cal economy.  And  it  follows  less  now  than  at  any 
former  period.  The  sciences  have  become  so  multi- 
plied, and  each  is  pursued  so  far,  that  an  individ- 
ual, if  he  wishes  to  distinguish  himself  in  any^  de- 
partment of  human  inquiry,  must  give  himself  to  it 
almost  exclusively.      The  day  for   universal  scliolar- 

*  Life  of  William  Wilberforce,  Vol.  V.  pp.  134,  135. 


96  THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH. 

ship  is  past,  never  to  return.  "We  find  no  fault 
with  this  state  of  things,  for  we  see  that  it  is  an 
inevitable  condition  of  human  progress ;  but  we 
contend  that  an  exception  ought  to  be  made,  for 
obvious  reasons,  in  favor  of  morality  and  religion. 
All,  especially  in  the  educated  and  influential  classes, 
whatever  else  they  know  or  do  not  know,  should 
know  something  about  morality  and  religion.  For 
this,  therefore,  adequate  provision  should  be  made 
in  the  arrangements  of  society ;  and  sucli  provision 
is  made  by  the  institution  of  the  Christian  Sabbath ; 
during  which  the  theory  certainly  is,  whatever  may 
be  the  practice,  that  all  secular  and  professional 
cares  and  studies  should  be  suspended,  the  thoughts 
being  mainly  turned  upon  those  questions  which 
belong  to  our  eternal  peace. 

Such  provision,  always  needed,  even  by  liberally 
educated  men,  is  becoming  more  and  more  so  for 
another  reason,  —  I  mean  the  change  which  has  taken 
place  in  the  spirit  and  aim  of  education  itself.  We 
can  go  back  to  the  time  when  almost  all  the  learn- 
ing in  the  world  was  in  the  Church,  and  for  the 
Church.  Our  boasted  system  of  common  schools 
grew  mainly  out  of  the  Puritan  principle,  that  every 
individual  should  be  put  into  a  condition  to  read 
the  Bible  for  himself.  What  first  led  to  the  found- 
ing of  this  college  was  the  fear  that  otherwise  the 
succession  of  learned   and  faithful   ministers   would 


THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH.  97 

fail.  Yet  we  have  lived  to  see  the  day  when  the 
question  is  gravely  discussed,  whether  the  Bible 
ought  to  be  read  in  common  schools.  Also,  in  this 
college,  still  purporting  to  be  dedicated  to  Christ 
and  the  Church,  the  Greek  New  Testament,  though 
for  more  than  a  century  the  only  text-book  in  the 
language,  has  dropped  at  last  entirely  out  of  the 
academical  course.  I  do  not  mention  these  changes 
in  order  to  condemn  them.  For  anything  I  have 
to  say  at  present,  they  may  all  be  for  the  better, 
and  not  for  the  worse.  One  thing,  however,  is 
plain :  in  so  far  as  religious  instruction  is  excluded 
from  general  and  professional  education  it  follows 
incontestably,  that  the  so-called  educated  classes  are 
not  any  more  likely  than  others  to  be  well  informed 
in  religious  matters. 

And  do  not  facts  sustain  this  view?  When  the 
conversation  turns  on  questions  calling  for  famil- 
iarity with  Scripture,  or  with  the  grounds  and  limi- 
tations of  disputed  doctrines,  or  with  the  history  of 
the  controversy  with  unbelievers,  or  with  different 
sects,  I  do  not  jfind  that  scientific  or  professional 
men  are  any  more  at  home  on  such  topics  than 
intelligent  farmers  or  mechanics..  And  not  only  so. 
When  unauthorized  and  crude  novelties  are  broached 
under  the  name  of  religion,  or,  which  is  just  as  bad, 
when  a  temporary  reaction  takes  place  in  favor  of 
cast-ofif  errors   and  superstitions,  I  find  that  a  full 

5  O 


98  THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH. 

proportion  of  educated  men  and  women,  and  of  the 
so-called  higher  classes,  are  carried  away  by  the 
folly.  Does  not  this  prove  that  a  full  proportion  of 
those  classes  have  yet  to  be  "rooted  and  grounded" 
in  what  "  be  the  first  principles  of  the  oracles  of 
God  "  ?  From  all  which  I  think  we  have  a  right  to 
conclude,  that,  regarding  Sunday  merely  as  afford- 
ing opportunity  for  religious  instruction,  the  great 
body  of  what  are  called  the  higher  and  the  edu- 
cated classes  stand  in  need  of  it,  as  well  as  others, 
and  as  much  as  others. 

But  the  benefits  resulting  from  Sunday  in  respect 
to  Christian  knowledge  are  inconsiderable  when  com- 
pared with  the  benefits  resulting  from  it  in  respect 
to  Christian  morals  and  piety,  to  Christian  nurture. 
Those  who  think  to  class  the  observance  of  the 
Lord's  day  under  the  head  of  outward  forms  and 
ceremonies  entirely  mistake  the  nature  and  purpose 
of  the  institution.  It  is  not  a  form  or  ceremony 
of  any  kind,  but  an  appointed  season,  a  set  time, 
which  we  are  to  give,  as  we  best  may,  to  the  means 
of  moral  and  spiritual  culture.  You  might  just  as 
well  rank  under  the  head  of  outward  forms  and 
ceremonies  the  four  years  spent  at  college,  or  the 
three  years  spent  in  the  study  of  a  profession.  The 
education  of  the  heart  is  just  as  much  education, 
as  the  education  of  the  head  ;  and  for  the  former  at 
least,  all,  I  suppose,  will  agree  that  frequent  oppor- 


THE   STUDENT'S   SABBATH. 


tunities  are  as  indispensable  to  the  learned  as  to  the 
unlearned.  There  is  some  connection,  it  must  be 
confessed,  between  strength  and  activity  of  intellect 
on  other  subjects,  and  strength  and  activity  of  in- 
tellect on  the  subject  of  religion  ;  but  there  is  no 
necessary  connection  whatever  between  either,  and 
that  devotion  of  heart  and  life  which  God  requires. 
A  giant  intellect  is  no  more  the  substance  or  the 
sign  of  moral  superiority  than  a  giant  frame.  On 
the  contrary,  the  very  consciousness  of  great  mental 
power,  co-operating  with  the  pride  and  selfishness 
of  man's  heart,  is  of  the  nature  of  a  temptation, 
and  on  this  account  needs  especially  to  be  kept 
under  by  the  frequent  discipline  of  self-examination 
and  prayer. 

To  such  as  object  to  keeping  particular  days  holy, 
on  the  ground  that  every  day  should  be  kept  holy, 
there  are  two  answers:  one  assuming  that  the  ob- 
jection is  made  in  good  faith  ;  the  other,  that  it  is 
a  mere  pretext. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  the  early  Quakers  were  per- 
fectly sincere  in  what  they  said  on  this  subject ;  but 
then  it  should  be  remembered  that  they  did  keep 
every  day  holy.  Whoever  takes  up  with  their  doc- 
trine respecting  the  Sabbath,  ought,  at  least,  in  order 
to  be  consistent,  to  take  up  with  their  practice  on 
other  days,  abstaining  from  all  worldly  amusements, 
and  also  from  all  worldly  occupations  of  a  question- 


100  THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH. 

able  character  or  tendency.      Even  then,  however, 
we  should  not  be  satisfied.     Not  that  we  would  not 
have  every  day  kept  holy  ;  but  this  is  our  position. 
We  would  have  Sunday  kept  holy  in  one  way,  that 
is,  by  giving  it  to  public  and  private  worship,  and 
to  serious  reading  and  meditation,  and  the  rest  of 
the  week  kept  holy  in  another  way,  that  is,  by  giving 
it  to  the  faithful  and  earnest  discharge  of  duty  in 
the  business  of  society  and  the  world.     Nay,  more ; 
we  are  persuaded  that,  unless  one  day  in  the  week 
is  kept  holy  in  the  way  first  mentioned,  the  other 
days  are  not  likely,  in  the  end,  to  be  kept  holy  in 
any  way.      And   for  proof  of  this  I  would  refer  to 
the  history  of  Quakerism  itself.     Spiritually-minded 
men  who  are  tempted  to  think  lightly  of  consecrated 
times  and  places,  and  outward  ordinances,  would  do 
well   to   consider   that  those    sects    which   maintain 
these   fixtures   and   bulwarks    of  the  religious  senti- 
ment stand  as   strong  as  ever,  while  those,  on  the 
contrary,  which    began    by    abandoning    them    have 
either  faded  away,  or,   to   prevent   this,   have   been 
constrained  essentially  to  modify  their  original  plan. 
As   for  those   who   talk   about   one  day  being   as 
good   as  another,  without  taking  care  to  make  any 
day  what  it  ought  to  be,  I  suppose  we  have  a  right 
to  regard  the  whole  as  mere  pretext,  resorted  to  as 
an    excuse    for   religious    indifference.      In    arguing 
with  such  persons,  it  would,  perhaps,  be  out  of  place 


THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH.  101 

to  appeal  to  the  highest  principles  of  human  action, 
for  they  do  not  recognize  these  principles.  But  as 
some  who  take  this  ground  are  not  unwilling  to 
acknowledge  the  moral  and  social  benefits  of  Chris- 
tianity, it  may  not  be  without  avail  to  urge  that  all 
these  are  put  in  peril  by  the  neglect  of  the  Lord's 
day.  It  is  a  significant  fact,  that,  in  speaking  of 
our  frontier  settlements,  travellers  agree  in  this, 
that,  whenever  they  have  found  themselves  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  Sabbath,  they  have  also  found 
themselves  beyond  the  reach  of  Christian  civiliza- 
tion. Even  in  the  most  favored  regions,  the  best 
men  deplore  their  inability  to  keep  the  day  as  they 
would.  And  what  is  the  reason?  It  is  because 
the  six  days  given  to  the  world  are  more  than  a 
match  for  the  one  day  given  to  heaven.  If  it  were 
not  for  this  one  day  given  to  heaven,  the  world 
would  swallow  up  every  thought,  every  care. 

My  friends,  as  a  general  rule  we  are  not  wont 
to  trifle  with  our  important  temporal  interests:  let 
us  not  trifle  with  our  moral  and  religious  interests, 
merely  because  they  are  eternal.  "Remember  the 
Sabbath  day,  to  keep  it  holy."  As  educated  men, 
we  need  it;  —  we  need  it  for  our  own  good,  for 
our  own  safety.  We  owe  it  also  to  others  ;  for  it  is 
only  in  this  way  that  the  genius  and  learning  of 
the  country  are  likely  to  be  elevated  and  purified 
by  the  Christian  spirit.      And   what  the  Scriptures 


102  THE  STUDENT'S  SABBATH. 

affirm  of  the  individual  is  pre-eminently  true  of  the 
community :  "if  the  light  that  is  in  thee  be  dark- 
ness, how  great  is  that  darkness." 

Think  not,  because  I  have  said  that  something  is 
to  be  done  on  the  Christian  Sabbath,  that  I  would 
compromise  its  benefits  as  a  day  of  rest.  To  the 
mind  change  is  rest.  And,  besides,  if  the  day  is 
spent  as  it  ought  to  be,  it  will  lead  us  to  take  an- 
other view  of  the  entire  work  of  life,  —  dignifying  it 
by  a  higher  significance  given  to  its  responsibilities, 
and  making  the  whole  a  service  of  freedom  and 
satisfaction,  because  of  choice  and  love. 


PRAYER.    • 

IF  YE  THEN,  BEING  EVIL,  KNOW  HOW  TO  GIVE  GOOD  GIFTS  UNTO 
TOUR  CHILDREN,  HOW  MUCH  MORE  SHALL  YOUR  FATHER  WHICH 
IS    IN    HEAVEN    GIVE    GOOD    THINGS    TO    THEM    THAT    ASK    HIM  1 

—  Matthew  vii.  11. 

Supplication,  or  prayer,  is  the  natural  language 
of  weakness,  dependence,  and  fear.  When  in  trouble 
and  perplexity,  when  the  danger  is  pressing,  and 
we  from  any  cause  feel  unequal  to  the  exigency, 
it  is  as  natural  for  us  to  cry  out  for  help,  as  to 
groan  when  in  pain,  or  weep  at  scenes  of  distress. 
If  any  one  is  near  who  can  save  us,  who  is  thought 
to  hold  our  fate  in  his  hands,  or  is  looked  up  to  as 
greatly  our  superior  in  wisdom  or  station,  our  cries 
are  spontaneously  directed  to  him.  Thus  it  is  that 
the  child  often  turns  to  his  parents,  the  sick  man 
to  his  physician,  tlie  slave  to  his  master,  the  sub- 
ject to  his  prince,  in  the  language  and  look,  as 
well  as  in  the  spirit,  of  prayer.  In  the  appropriate 
circumstances  it  is  as  natural  for  us  to  pray  as  to 
speak.  When  there  is  occasion  for  it,  our  language 
takes  the  form  of  petition  or  entreaty  as  readily  and 


104  PRAYER. 

naturally,  as  it  takes  that  of  question  or  command 
when  there  is  occasion  for  that.  Prayer  is  the  fit, 
natural,  and  spontaneous  utterance  of  those  who  need 
help,  when  in  the  presence,  or  in  the  supposed  pres- 
ence, of  those  who  can  render  it  if  they  will.  A 
sense  of  propriety,  self-respect,  pride,  reserve,  and  a 
multitude  of  other  causes,  may  induce  a  man  to 
keep  silence  at  such  times ;  but  it  can  only  be  by 
restraining  one  of  the  most  distinctly  pronounced 
tendencies  of  human  nature. 

Thus  far  I  have  spoken  of  prayer  in  general^  —  of 
prayer  as  it  might  exist,  and  would  exist,  if  there 
were  no  such  thing  as  religion. 

Passing  now  to  prayer  in  religion^  the  first  re- 
mark which  occurs  to  me  is,  that  it  differs  not 
from  prayer  as  above  described  in  occasion  or  form, 
nor  essentially  in  its  nature  or  spirit,  but  only  in 
its  object.  Prayer  in  religion  is  addressed  to  an 
Invisible  Being.  It  supposes  a  communication  be- 
tween the  visible  and  the  invisible  worlds.  It  takes 
for  granted  two  facts  :  first,  that  a  being,  or  per- 
haps that  many  beings  exist  of  a  higher  order  than 
ourselves  ;  and,  secondly,  that  he  or  they  can  be 
moved  by  our  supplications.  Deny  these  facts  and 
you  deny  religion,  and,  of  course,  all  foundation  for 
prayer  in  religion.  Admit  these  facts,  and  prayer, 
as  a  religious  act,  becomes  as  natural  and  spon- 
taneous as  it  is  for  the  hungry  to  ask  for  bread, 
or  for  the  drowning  to  cry  out  for  help. 


PRAYER.  .  105 

We  may  therefore  say  of  prayer  in  religion  what 
was  just  said  of  prayer  in  general.  It  is  the  fit, 
natural,  and  spontaneous  utterance  of  those  who 
need  help,  when  in  the  presence,  or  in  the  sup- 
posed presence,  of  One  who  can  help  them  if  He 
will.  Under  these  circumstances,  to  pray  is  as  natu- 
ral as  to  breathe.  Under  these  circumstances,  to 
restrain  prayer  is  not  to  follow  our  nature,  but  to 
do  violence  to  it;  so  that  all  occasion  for  argument 
is  with  those  who  neglect  or  withhold  prayer.  In 
other  words,  the  question  with  us  should  not  be, 
Why  pray  ?  but.  Why  not  pray  ? 

But  if  prayer  is  so  natural  and  spontaneous  an 
act,  it  would  seem  to  follow  that  it  must  be  univer- 
sal. And  is  it  not  so  in  fact  ?  One  of  the  best  in- 
formed of  the  pagans  has  said :  "  Survey  the  face 
of  the  globe.  You  may  find  whole  tribes  and  na- 
tions without  fortified  places,  without  letters,  with- 
out a  regular  magistracy  or  fixed  habitations,  without 
property  or  the  use  of  money ;  but  never  one  without 
a  God,  without  altars,  without  prayers."  *  Neither 
was  this  a  mere  state  contrivance  for  state  'pur- 
poses,—  the  craft  by  which  a  few  would  subdue  and 
control  the  many.  We  have  the  testimony  of  several 
of  the  early  Christian  fathers  to  the  general  preva- 
lence throughout  the  pagan  world  of  a  disposition 
among  the  common  people  to  appeal  when  in  trouble 

*  Plutarchus  :  Moralia.  Adversus  Colotem,  Cap.  XXXL 

5* 


106  PRAYEK. 

or  alarm  to  a  higher  Power.  It  is  also  remarkable 
that  in  the  deepest  emotions  of  their  minds  they 
never  directed  their  invocations  to  their  false  gods, 
but  employed  such  expressions  as  these :  "  As  truly 
as  God  lives  !  "  or,  "  God  help  me  !  "  Moreover,  at 
such  times  they  did  not  turn  their  eyes  to  the  Capi- 
tol, but  lifted  them  to  Heaven.* 

And  how  is  it  at  the  present  day  ?  Far  am  I 
from  supposing  that  piety,  considered  as  a  predomi- 
nant or  abiding  trait  of  character,  the  piety  re- 
quired by  the  New  Testament,  is  universal  or  gen- 
eral. But  where  will  you  find  a  man  who  never 
prays!  You  may  find  men  without  morality,  with- 
out natural  affection,  without  any  proper  or  steady 
faith ;  you  may  find  plenty  of  doubters  and  de- 
niers,  scoffers  and  blasphemers ;  but  where  will  you 
find  one  who  never  prayed  !  Throughout  the  wide 
world,  where  will  you  find  one  whom  the  conscious- 
ness of  peril,  anguish,  impotence,  or  sin  never  be- 
trayed into  some  such  ejaculation  as  this :  "  God 
help  me ! "  or  "  God  have  mercy  on  me  !  "  Yet 
all  these  are  of  the  nature  of  prayer.  I  do  not 
think  I  should  be  very  extravagant  were  I  to  as- 
sert, that  it  is  as  impossible  to  find  a  man  who 
never  prayed,  as  to  find  one  who  never  shed  a 
tear. 

*  Cudworth's  Intellectual  System  (Harrison's  Ed.),  Vol.  II.  pp.  157 


PRAYER.  107 

Still  some  may  think  that  such  prayers,  however 
natural  and  common,  are  worthless,  are  not  proper 
prayers,  as  they  do  not  spring  from  gratitude,  but 
from  a  sense  of  our  needs  and  our  helplessness. 
But  why  this  objection  ?  What  better  or  more 
suitable  spirit  is  there,  from  which  prayer,  as  prayer, 
can  proceed,  than  from  this  very  consciousness  of 
our  needs  and  our  helplessness.  Here  indeed 
breaks  upon  us,  as  it  seems  to  me,  one  of  the  most 
important  views  to  be  taken  of  those  trials  and 
afflictions  which  bring  man's  insufficiency  to  light. 
They  make  us  feel^  what  is  true  whether  we  feel  it 
or  no,  that  we  are  nothing  without  God,  and  so 
lead  us  to  God  as  our  only  refuge  and  stay.  Other 
wise  purposes  are  answered,  I  doubt  not,  through 
our  exposure  to  trouble  and  calamity;  yet  none  of 
these  are  of  so  direct  and  high  benefit  as  the  one 
we  are  now  considering,  impressing  on  the  human 
mind,  as  it  does,  a  sense  of  entire  dependence  on 
God,  and  making  prayer  to  be  the  natural  and 
only  resort. 

What  man  is  there  whose  own  experience  does 
not  come  in  aid  of  this  doctrine  ?  Those  especially 
who  have  felt  the  crushing  weight  of  a  great  sor- 
row, will  they  not  testify  that  they  found  no  peace 
until  they  gave  over  struggling  with  Providence, 
until  they  gave  over  struggling  altogether ;  until 
they  yielded  themselves  unreservedly  to  the  Divine 


108  PRAYER. 

disposal,  something  whispering  that  it  was  to  bring 
about  this  happy  state  of  mind  that  the  sorrow  was 
sent  ?  There  are  prayers,  as  every  one  knows, 
which  are  not  prayers  ;  but  this  can  hardly  be  said 
of  the  earnest  cry  which  is  wrung  from  men  in 
their  extremity,  when  every  other  hope  has  fled, 
and  they  cast  themselves  wholly  on  God.  I  cannot 
help  thinking  that  many  a  solemn-sounding  litany 
has  been  chanted  by  priestly  lips  in  consecrated 
places,  to  waste  itself  on  the  air,  while  the  whole 
ear  of  heaven  was  intent  on  some  poor  sailor's 
"God  help  me ! "  as  it  went  up  amidst  the  howl- 
higs  of  the  tempest  from  the  parting  wreck. 

Again,  it  may  be  objected  that  these  natural, 
spontaneous,  and  often  ejaculatory  appeals  to  God, 
when  we  are  in  difficulty  or  trouble,  amount  to 
nothing  as  they  are  not  founded  in  reason,  but  in 
some  illusion  of  the  imagination.  "  Forgetting,"  such 
objectors  will  say,  "  the  essential  distinction  between 
the  Divine  and  human  modes  of  acting,  we  call 
upon  God,  as  we  should  call  on  a  man  if  he  were 
near,  and  expect  the  Divine  interference  as  we 
should  expect  that  of  a  friend,  of  a  father,  if  he 
were  standing  by."  And  why  not?  Either  you 
must  say  that  God  is  not  our  friend  and  father, 
which  is  to  deny  the  truth  of  religion ;  or  that, 
though  our  friend  and  father,  he  will  not  act  as  if 
he  were,  which  is   to  make  it  of  no  importance  to 


PRAYER.  •  109 

US  whether  religion  is  true  or  not.  Why  are  we 
glad  to  be  assured  that  God  is  our  friend  and  father  ? 
Simply  and  solely  because  we  thence  infer  that  he 
will  be  a  friend  and  father  to  us ;  that  is  to  say,  do 
for  us  what  a  friend  and  father  would  in  like  cir- 
cumstances. Undoubtedly  we  should  guard  against 
the  not  uncommon  error  of  pushing  too  far  the 
analogy  between  the  human  and  Divine  modes  of 
conduct.  For  example,  we  must  not  expect  from 
God  many  things  which  we  might  expect  from  the 
folly  or  weakness  of  a  friend  or  father ;  but  cer- 
tainly we  may  expect  from  God  what  we  should 
expect  from  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  a  friend 
and  father.  If  these  titles  when  applied  to  God  do 
not  mean  this,  I  would  fain  ask  what  they  do 
mean.  Is  it  not  plain,  not  only  that  they  mean 
this,  but  that  they  can  mean  nothing  else  ?  God  is 
not  our  friend  in  the  same  way  in  which  a  man 
is  our  friend,  that  is,  by  mutual  sympathy  and  re- 
ciprocity of  favors  ;  neither  is  he  our  father  in  the 
literal  sense  of  that  word.  The  terms  are  not  in- 
tended to  denote  a  physical,  but  a  moral  relation- 
ship. That  is  to  say,  we  call  God  our  friend  and 
father,  because,  and  only  because  we  suppose  he 
will  do  for  us  what  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of 
a  friend  and  father  would  do  for  us  in  like  circum- 
stances. Calling  God  our  friend  and  father  means 
this,  or  it  means  nothing;  it  means  this,  or  it  does 


110  PBAYER. 

not  afford  us  the  shadow  of  ground  either  of  com- 
fort or  trust. 

Accordingly,  the  Scriptures,  both  the  Old  Testa- 
ment and  the  New,  abound  in  instances  in  which 
the  paternal  character  of  God  is  expressly  set  forth 
as  a  reason  for  expecting  his  help  in  time  of  need, 
and  especially  in  answer  to  prayer.  "  Like  as  a 
father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them 
that  fear  him ;  for  he  knoweth  our  frame ;  he  re- 
membereth  that  we  are  dust."  "  Can  a  woman  for- 
get her  sucking  child,  that  she  should  not  have 
compassion  on  the  son  of  her  womb  ?  Yea,  they 
may  forget ;  yet  will  I  not  forget  thee."  The  para- 
ble of  the  Prodigal  Son  is  also  a  beautiful  and 
most  impressive  illustration  of  what  may  be  ex- 
pected from  the  paternal  relationship  of  God,  show- 
ing that  no  degree  of  ingratitude  and  sin  will  shut 
his  ear  against  our  prayers,  should  we  ever  after- 
wards turn  to  him  with  an  humble  and  contrite 
heart.  And  so  our  text :  "  What  man  is  there  of 
you,  whom  if  his  son  ask  bread,  will  he  give  him 
a  stone  ?  or  if  he  ask  a  fish,  will  he  give  him  a 
serpent  ?  If  ye  then,  being  evil,  know  how  to  give 
good  gifts  to  your  children,  how  much  more  shall 
your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  give  good  things 
to  them  that  ask  him  ? " 

The  first  practical  lesson  to  be  gathered  from  what 
has  been  said  is,  that  we  should  cherish  this  natu- 


PEAYEE.  Ill 

ral  and  spontaneous  disposition  to  look  upon  our 
Heavenly  Father  as  always  near,  watching  over  our 
conduct,  and  ready  with  all  needed  succors.  A 
man  is  not  religious  because  he  believes  in  the  ex- 
istence of  God,  but  because  he  recognizes  and  feels 
His  continual  presence  and  agency.  The  Epicureans 
did  not  deny  the  existence  of  the  gods ;  but  they 
denied  the  fact  of  a  Providence ;  they  denied  that 
the  gods  had  any  care  or  pity  for  mortals,  and 
so  subverted  the  foundations  of  all  religion  in  the 
soul.  Not  much  less  fatal  to  worship  and  a  de- 
vout habit  of  mind  is  a  doctrine  held  by  some  at 
the  present  day ;  namely,  that  God  made  the  world, 
and  then  abandoned  it  to  the  action  and  control 
of  physical  laws,  retiring  himself  from  all  supervision 
and  interference  in  human  affairs.  The  ground  and 
life  of  prayer  depend  on  our  believing,  not  merely 
that  there  was  a  God  once,  the  Creator  of  the 
world,  but  that  there  is  one  now  and  here;  —  a 
living  and  personal  God,  witnessing  everything  which 
we  do,  and  hearing  everything  which  we  say. 

Men,  I  repeat  it,  are  not  religious  in  proportion 
to  the  strength,  the  clearness,  or  the  soundness  of 
their  faith,  but  in  proportion  to  the  hold  which  this 
faith,  whatever  it  may  be,  has  gained  over  their 
feelings  and  imagination.  A  serious  and  spiritually 
minded  man,  though  of  but  little  faith,  is  often 
more  religious  than  one   who  never  knew  what  it 


112  PRAYEE. 

was  to  doubt,  the  difference  m  conviction  being 
more  than  made  up  by  the  difference  in  feeling 
and  imagination.  I  do  not  mean  that  we  should 
look  to  the  feelings  and  imagination  as  sources  of 
truth.  To  find  out  what  is  true,  we  should  use  our 
reason ;  but  having  found  it  out,  if  we  would  give 
effect  to  it,  we  must  call  in  the  aid  of  the  feelings 
and  the  imagination,  by  which  alone  what  is  true 
to  the  understanding  is  converted  into  a  present 
reality  to  the  heart  and  the  life.  Eeason  may  assure 
us  of  the  existence  of  "Him  who  is  invisible ; "  but 
this  is  not  enough.  This  conclusion  may  be  ac- 
cepted by  the  intellect  alone,  in  which  case  we 
shall  hold  it  without  being  affected  by  it.  In  order 
to  be  affected  by  it,  and  to  become  personally  what 
it  requires,  we  must  live,  we  must  act,  we  must 
enjoy,  we  must  endure,  "  as  seeing'  Him  who  is  in- 
visible," which  cannot  be  done  without  the  help  of 
the  feelings  and  the  imagination. 

Let  me  add,  that  this  is  hardly  more  necessary  to 
religion  than  to  a  high  and  strict  virtue.  A  great 
deal  too  much  has  been  said  about  the  self-sufficiency 
and  the  all-sufficiency  of  virtue.  Virtue  with  relig- 
ion makes  a  man  contented  and  happy,  I  allow ; 
but  virtue  without  religion  only  makes  a  man  more 
painfully  alive  to  the  unequal  distributions  of  this 
world,  and  the  liopelessness  of  oppressed  innocence. 
Besides,  what   security  have   we   for   the   thorough- 


PRAYEK.  113 

ness  and  endurance  of  such  virtue  without  religion  ? 
Little  does  the  world  know  about  the  thoughts  of 
those  who  are  accounted  upright,  and  who  gen- 
erally are  so ;  little  does  it  know  what  they  do, 
or  are  tempted  to  do,  when  withdrawn  from  the 
public  gaze  ;  little  does  it  know  what  the  best  of 
them  would  be  tempted  to  think  and  do,  if  they 
could  divest  themselves  of  the  secret  impression 
that  the  eye  of  the  Livisible  Witness  is  upon  them 
at  all  times. 

Another  practical  lesson  to  be  gathered  from  what 
has  been  said  is,  that  we  should  not  only  look  upon 
our  Heavenly  Father  as  always  near,  but  accustom 
ourselves  to  make  known  our  requests  to  him, 
asking  that  we  may  receive,  and  thus  cultivating  a 
direct  and  habitual  intercourse  with  him.  I  am 
not  ignorant  of  the  speculative  difficulties  respecting 
prayer,  by  which  some  minds  are  troubled  ;  but  it 
is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  these  difficulties  are 
generally  at  the  bottom  of  their  neglect  of  prayer. 
What  hinders  a  vast  majority  of  such  men  from 
praying  is  the  want  of  a  devout  habit  of  mind. 
With  their  present  dispositions,  nine  out  of  ten 
would  not  pray,  habitually  and  from  the  heart,  even 
if  these  difficulties  were  removed ;  and  nine  out 
of  ten,  if  they  could  be  induced  to  cultivate  a  de- 
vout habit  of  mind,  would  soon  begin  to  pray  not- 
withstanding these  difficulties.      The  worst  that  can 


114  PRAYEE. 

be  said  of  these  difficulties  is,  that  they  supply  the 
unspiritually  disposed  with  an  excuse  or  pretext  for 
not  so  much  as  trying  or  caring  to  cultivate  a  de- 
vout habit  of  mind. 

To  this  some  may  reply:  We  have  no  objection 
to  a  devout  habit  of  mind ;  but  we  think  this  can 
be  cultivated  and  evinced  by  acknowledging  God  in 
all  his  ways,  by  submitting  to  every  affliction  as 
appointed  in  mercy,  by  referring  every  blessing  to 
his  gift,  —  in  short,  by  religious  thoughtfulness  and 
meditation,  quite  as  well  as  by  seljEish  importunities 
under  the  name  of  prayer.  If  I  find  difficulty  in 
dealing  with  those  who  make  this  objection,  it  is 
because  I  find  difficulty  in  believing  it  to  be  made 
in  good  faith.  Is  it  true,  do  you  think,  that  those 
who  take  this  ground  against  prayer  are  among 
those  who  are  most  addicted  to  religious  thought- 
fulness  and  meditation  ?  Nor  is  this  all.  I  can  hardly 
conceive  it  to  be  possible  that  a  devout  man  should 
become  familiar  with  the  thought  of  God  as  a 
loving  Father,  and  accustom  himself  to  recognize 
his  constant  presence  and  agency,  without  being 
often  irresistibly  impelled,  by  a  sense  of  insufficiency 
or  sin,  to  cry  out  for  help  or  pardon.  As  it  has 
been  justly  said  :  "  To  repeat  desires  in  our  minds, 
being  at  the  same  time  sensible  that  the  Supreme 
Disposer  of  our  lot  stands  by  and  observes  them, 
without  ever  directing  them  to  Him,  or  looking  to 


PEAYER.  115 

Him  for  the  accomplishment  of  them,  —  this  implies 
a  neglect  of  the  Giver  of  all  good,  so  repugnant  to 
the  sentiments  of  the  human  heart,  and  so  crimi' 
nal,  as  to  be  absolutely  incompatible  with  right  dis- 
positions." *  To  ask  whether  a  man  can  be  relig- 
ious without  prayer,  is  like  asking  whether  a  man 
can  be  sociable  without  the  use  of  speech.  It  is 
bringing  together  incongruous,  irreconcilable  ideas. 
Besides,  for  other  reasons,  I  do  not  admit  that  any 
form  of  religious  thoughtfulness  or  meditation  is  as 
likely  to  bring  about  a  devout  habit  of  mind,  as 
prayer.  The  very  posture  which  the  soul  assumes 
in  prayer  opens  it  and  predisposes  it  to  the  recep- 
tion of  Divine  influences.  In  private  prayer  es- 
pecially, supposing  it  real  and  not  mere  form  or 
routine,  when  the  soul  is  alone  with  its  Maker, — 
tliis  is  felt  to  be  no  time  nor  place  for  dissembling, 
or  vain  parade,  or  side  purposes.  Conscious  that 
the  eye  of  the  Omniscient  is  upon  him,  and  that  no 
record  is  made  of  what  he  is  doing  but  that  which 
will  be  sealed  up  until  the  judgment  of  the  great 
day,  —  if  man  is  ever  sincere  and  in  earnest,  if  he 
is  ever  touched  by  a  sense  of  his  relationship  to  the 
Divinity,  if  his  heart  is  ever  warmed  and  melted  by 
the  spirit  of  humble  and  childlike  trust,  it  must  be 
then. 


*  Price's  Four  Dissertations,  Fifth  Edition,  p.  282. 


116  PRAYEE. 

There  is  one  more  practical  lesson  to  be  gathered 
from  what  has  been  said.  We  are  not  only  to 
cultivate  the  spirit  and  the  habit  of  prayer,  but  we 
are  to  do  it  from  belief  in  the  direct  efficacy  of 
prayer,  I  have  just  alluded  to  the  difficulties  on 
this  subject  which  exist  in  some  minds.  Time 
would  fail  me  to  speak  of  them  in  detail,  but  they 
are  mainly  resolvable  into  this :  that  God  will  do 
for  us  what  is  fit  and  best,  whether  we  ask  him  or 
not.  True ;  but  is  it  not  plain  that  it  may  be 
fit  and  best  for  us  to  receive  many  things  in  an- 
swer to  humble  and  devout  prayer,  which  it  would 
not  be  fit  and  best  for  us  to  receive  on  any  other 
condition  ?  Besides,  these  are  difficulties  to  trouble 
a  deist ;  and  we  are  not  deists.  They  ought  not  to 
trouble  a  Christian.  The  worst  that  can  be  said 
is,  that,  with  our  very  inadequate  conceptions  of  the 
Divine  nature  and  government,  reason  cannot  see 
how  prayer  can  alter  the  course  of  events.  Still 
the  believer  knows  that  the  fact  is  revealed,  and 
insisted  on  as  much  perhaps  as  any  other  in  the 
New  Testament;  and  under  these  circumstances  the 
misgivings  of  his  bewildered  and  baffled  understand- 
ing are  overruled  by  the  sublime  principle  of  faith. 
Moreover,  these  doubts  about  the  efficacy  of  prayer  do 
not  originate  in  the  best  parts  of  our  nature  ;  neither 
do  they  manifest  themselves  in  the  best  moods  of 
the  soul ;  they  are  born  of  our  selfish  and  worldly 


PRAYER.  117 

experiences,  and  that  almost  exclusive  culture  of 
the  understanding  which  leads  to  unspiritual  views 
of  nature  and  God. 

Most  persons  find  no  difficulty  in  believing  that 
prayer  exerts  a  happy  and  desirable  influence  on 
the  worshipper  himself;  but  even  this  can  hardly 
be,  if  it  is  generally  understood  that  this  is  all.  In- 
deed, I  cannot  help  thinking  that  conscience  itself 
would  dissuade  many  from  resorting  to  prayer,  if 
brought  to  look  on  it  as  no  better  than  a  kind  of 
well-meant  cheat  which  we  practise  on  ourselves 
for  its  moral  uses.  Prayer,  to  have  much  effect  on 
ourselves,  must  be  believed  to  have  an  effect  on 
God.  It  is  too  solemn  a  transaction  by  far  to  be 
made  use  of  as  a  kind  of  spiritual  strategy.  No  ; 
make  not  our  prayers  to  seem  one  thing  and  be 
another.  Strike  not  our  devotions  dead  by  the 
sceptical  sophism  that  they  can  only  have  an  effect  on 
ourselves.  They  will  have  an  effect  on  God;  for  he 
has  said  that  they  will,  and  the  promise  has  been 
ratified  and  confirmed  in  the  experience  of  holy 
and  devout  ihen  in  all  ages.  They  will  have  an 
effect  on  God,  for  He  who  is  ^'  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Father "  has  said  that  they  will.  "  Ask,  and  it 
shall  be  given  you ;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find."  Again 
it  is  said :  "  Let  us  come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of 
grace,  that  we  may  obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to 
help  in  time  of  need."      And  more  affectingly  still 


118  PEAYER. 

in  the  words  of  the  text :  "  If  ye  then,  being  evil, 
know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your  children, 
how  much  more  shall  your  Father  which  is  in 
heaven  give  good  things  to  them  that  ask  him." 
Wherefore,  "  Be  careful  for  nothing ;  but  in  every- 
thing by  prayer  and  supplication,  with  thanksgiving, 
let  your  requests  be  made  known  unto  God:  and 
the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all  understanding, 
shall  keep  your  hearts  and  minds  through  Jesus 
Christ." 


RELIGION  AS  AFFECTED  BY  THE  PROGRESS 
OF  THE  PHYSICAL  SCIENCES. 

AND  THERE  SHALL  BE  SIGNS  IN  THE  SUN,  AND  IN  THE  MOON,  AND 
IN  THE  stars;  and  UPON  THE  EARTH  DISTRESS  OF  NATIONS  AND 

perplexity;  the  sea  and  the  waves  roaring  ;  men's  hearts 
failing  them  for  fear,  and  for  looking  after  those 
things  which  are  coming  on  the  earth;  for  the  powers 

OF  HEAVEN  SHALL  BE  SHAKEN.  —  Luke  Xxi.  25,  26. 

In  the  language  of  Scripture  the  overthrow  and 
destruction  of  nations  are  represented  under  images 
borrowed  from  unusual  and  terrific  appearances  in 
nature.  We  need  not  suppose  that  the  Prophets, 
in  resorting  to  such  expressions,  really  meant  that 
the  physical  phenomena  here  referred  to  would  at- 
tend or  usher  in  the  events  foretold.  The  expres- 
sions were  not  intended  as  descriptive  and  historical, 
but  merely  as  suggestive  and  emblematic  of  the 
impending  calamity. 

But  in  the  early  popular  superstitions  of  every 
country  a  mysterious  connection  is  supposed  really 
to  exist  between  remarkable  appearances  in  nature, 
especially   when   in    the    heavens,    and    remarkable 


120  RELIGION  AND  PHYSICAL   SCIENCE. 

changes  in  the  affairs  of  men.  On  this  fanciful  idea 
arose  that  mighty  superstructure  of  omens  and 
portents  and  prodigies  wliich  plays  so  important  a 
part  in  the  religions  of  the  ancient  world.  A  day  of 
unusual  darkness,  the  shooting  of  meteors  notice- 
able either  for  their  number  or  magnitude,  a  singu- 
lar conjunction  of  the  planets,  the  appearance  of  a 
comet,  or  an  eclipse  of  the  sun,  was  sure  to  be  at- 
tended by  "  distress  of  nations  and  perplexity," 
"  men's  hearts  failing  them  for  fear,  and  for  look- 
ing after  those  things  which  were  coming  on  the 
earth." 

If  the  question  should  be  asked,  Why  are  not 
the  multitude  affected  in  the  same  way  now  ?  —  the 
answer  is  on  everybody's  tongue.  It  is  because 
the  wonders  of  science  have  gradually  and  imper- 
ceptibly expelled  the  marvels  of  superstition.  Who 
now  believes  in  the  pompous  trifling  of  astrology? 
Who  now  thinks  to  read  in  the  heavens  the  fate 
of  nations,  or  of  individuals  ?  No  doubt  the  sudden 
apparition  of  a  comet,  an  earthquake,  a  total  eclipse 
of  the  sun,  or  any  other  unusual  and  startling 
occurrence,  will  still  arrest  attention,  and  fill  men 
with  awe  ;  but  they  are  no  longer  looked  upon  as 
prodigies,  as  omens  or  portents,  or  as  being  in  any 
sense  preternatural.  On  the  contrary,  they  are 
known  to  be  resolvable  into  the  operation  of  the 
same   system   of   physical   laws   according   to   which 


RELIGION  AND  PHYSICAL   SCIENCE.  121 

the  fire  burns  and  rivers  flow,  the  flowers  expand 
and  an  apple  falls  to  the  ground. 

Here,  however,  several  questions  arise,  by  which 
thoughtful  and  serious  minds  have  been  troubled 
not  a  little.  Granting  that  the  progress  of  science 
tends  to  lessen  the  number  of  popular  illusions 
and  mistakes,  is  there  no  reason  to  fear  that  it  also 
tends  to  lessen  the  number  of  popular  interests 
and  securities  ?  The  intellect  will  doubtless  be  a 
gainer  by  it ;  but  is  there  no  danger  that  the 
imagination  and  the  sentiments  will  suffer  ?  Super- 
stition will  be  rooted  up  ;  is  there  no  ground  for 
the  apprehension  that  religion  itself  is  also  gradually 
losing  its  hold  on  the  public  mind,  and  from  the 
same  cause  ? 

The  writings  of  men  who  are  distrustful  of  the 
times  abound  in  doubts  and  misgivings  of  this 
kind,  —  so  much  the  more  mischievous  because 
barely  hinted  at.  To  be  forever  asking  sceptical 
questions  as  to  the  drift  of  human  thought,  and  to 
stop  there,  can  answer  no  good  purpose.  Let  us, 
therefore,  take  up  some  of  these  inquiries,  and  pur- 
sue them  as  far  as  the  narrow  limits  of  a  single 
discourse  will  permit. 

In  the  first  place,  is  it  true  that  the  progress  of 
science  threatens  to  leave  us  with  nothing  to  wonder 
at  ?  There  are  those  who  seem  to  think  that,  in 
proportion  as  the  processes  of  nature  are  explained, 


122  EELIGION  AND  PHYSICAL   SCIENCE. 

that  is,  referred  to  established  and  known  laws,  so 
that  they  can  be  foreseen  and  predicted,  every- 
thing must  become  tame  and  commonplace;  —  no 
objects  to  call  forth  some  of  the  finest  and  noblest 
properties  of  our  nature  ;  no  play  of  the  imagina- 
tion :  man  will  look  down  on  everything ;  he  will 
look  up  to  nothing.  But  it  is  because  these  alarm- 
ists make  wonder  to  be  of  one  kind  only,  when  in 
fact  it  is  of  two  kinds.  There  is  a  stolid  wonder 
and  an  intelligent  wonder ;  the  wonder  of  bewilder- 
ment, and  the  wonder  of  admiration ;  wonder  at 
what  we  do  not  understand,  and  wonder  at  what 
we  do  understand,  and  see  to  be  so  true  and 
simple  and  perfect.  Undoubtedly  a  savage  will 
stand  aghast  at  appearances  in  the  heavens,  which, 
if  he  were  better  instructed,  would  not  affect  him 
at  all,  or  affect  him  in  a  very  different  way.  But 
this  is  not  the  sole,  or  the  highest  form  of  wonder. 
What  is  most  likely  to  fill  a  thinking  mind  with 
astonishment  and  awe,  is  not  the  disorder,  but  the 
order,  of  the  universe  ;  not  the  occasional  convul- 
sions of  the  elements,  but  the  fact  that  a  few  simple 
laws  reign  throughout  all  this  apparent  diversity 
and  confusion,  and  give  unity  and  stability  to  the 
whole. 

Still  many  will  insist  that  a  scientific  view  of  na- 
ture is  not  a  religious  view  of  nature.  And  this 
is  true  ;  but  only  in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  also 


EELIGION  AND   PHYSICAL  SCIENCE.  123 

true,  that  a  scientific  view  of  the  Liblc  is  not 
a  religious  view  of  the  Bible.  A  scientific  view  of 
nature  is  not  a  religious  view  of  nature,  any  more 
than  it  is  a  poetical  view  of  nature  ;  but  this  does 
not  assume  or  imply  that  it  stands  in  the  way  of 
either.  A  religious  view  of  nature  supposes  two 
things ;  first,  a  heart  alive  to  religious  impressions, 
and,  secondly,  an  eye  to  see  in  the  visible  universe 
the  presence  and  activity  of  "  Him  who  is  invisible." 
And  these,  of  course,  do  not  originate  in  a  science 
of  nature,  nor  in  a  science  of  anything,  but  in  our 
moral  constitution,  in  religious  culture,  and  the 
grace  of  God. 

Let  us  try  to  make  the  proper  and  necessary  dis- 
criminations on  this  subject.  The  whole  discussion 
about  the  bearing  of  scientific  study  on  religious 
character  has  been  needlessly  embarrassed  and  per- 
plexed by  the  false  issues  which  have  been  raised 
and  argued.  No  enlightened  advocate  of  education 
will  pretend  that  the  physical  sciences,  or  that  any 
science,  even  the  science  of  theology,  will  make  a 
man  truly  religious.  Scientific  men,  to  become  truly 
religious,  must  become  so  in  the  same  way  in  which 
other  men  do;  —  that  is,  by  availing  themselves  of 
the  means  necessary  to  induce  a  devout  habit  of 
mind. 

The  point  in  dispute  is  therefore  narrowed  down 
to  this :    are  scientific   men   less   likely  than   others 


124  RELIGION  AND   PHYSICAL   SCIENCE. 

to  resort  to  these  raeans  ?  or  do  tliej  resort  to  them 
under  less  favorable  circumstances  ?  In  other  words, 
to  be  still  more  explicit  and  direct,  the  whole  inquiry- 
resolves  itself  into  two  questions.  In  the  first  place, 
is  there  anything  in  a  scientific  study  of  nature  to 
hinder  a  man  from  becoming-  religious  in  the  usual 
way?  And,  in  the  second  place,  supposing  him  to 
be  religious,  is  there  anything  in  a  scientific  view 
of  nature  to  hinder  him  from  taking,  at  the  same 
time,  a  religious  view  of  nature  ? 

Before  taking  up  the  first  of  these  questions,  let 
us  glance,  for  a  moment,  at  the  facts  in  the  case. 
From  the  language  often  used  on  this  subject  one 
might  presume,  that  nearly  all  the  scepticism  in  the 
world  can  be  directly  traced  to  the  progress  of 
physical  science.  But  it  is  not  so.  The  great  irre- 
ligious movements,  so  far  as  they  have  originated 
in  study  of  any  kind,  have  originated,  for  the  most 
part,  in  the  study,  not  of  physics,  but  of  meta- 
physics. So  it  was  with  the  Greek  sophists.  So  it 
was  with  English  deism  in  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries.  And  so  pre-eminently  with 
German  pantheism,  which  is  the  oifspring,  not  of 
German  physics,  but  of  German  metaphysics.  Even 
the  materialism,  so  common  among  the  French 
physicists  of  the  last  generation,  was  not  the  con- 
sequence of  studying  nature  in  itself  considered,  but 
of  studying  nature  in  the  faith,  and  under  the  lead 


RELIGION  AND  PHYSICAL   SCIENCE.  125 

of  a  materialistic  philosophy,  that  is  to  say,  of  a 
bad  metaphysics.  Moreover  the  religious  character 
of  a  multitude  of  scientific  men  has  never  been 
questioned.  Such  names  as  Kepler  and  Newton, 
Boyle,  Pascal,  and  Leibnitz,  and  a  host  of  others 
like  them,  ought  at  least  to  save  the  physical  sci- 
ences from  being  singled  out  for  the  reproach  of 
necessarily  tending  to  infidelity.  And  how  is  it  in 
England  and  this  country,  at  the  present  day? 

Of  course  it  would  be  absurd  to  say,  that  every 
student  of  nature  is  a  religious  man.  But  what 
evidence  is  there  that  the  class  itself  has  not,  at 
this  moment,  its  full  proportion  of  such  men,  if  com- 
pared with  any  other  class  as  exclusively  devoted 
to  purely  intellectual  pursuits  ?  We  must  not  pre- 
sume that  a  scientific  man  lives  and  dies  without 
any  regard  for  religion,  merely  because  he  does  not 
see  fit  to  introduce  it  into  his  scientific  publica- 
tions, or  thinks,  perhaps,  with  Bacon,  that  final 
causes  have  nothing  to  do  with  physics.  Few  names 
eminent  in  modern  science  are  so  frequently  claimed 
on  the  side  of  infidelity  as  that  of  Laplace  :  it  is 
instructive,  therefore,  to  learn  what  his  final  senti- 
ments on  this  subject  were,  from  the  following  record 
of  a  conversation,  which  an  English  scholar  of  note 
had  with  him  not  long  before  his  death.  "  Among 
other  subjects  he  inquired  into  the  nature  of  our 
endowments,   and    our   course   of  academic    study  j 


126  RELIGION   AND   PHYSICAL   SCIENCE. 

which  I  explained  to  him  at  some  length.  He  then 
dwelt  earnestly  on  the  religious  character  of  our 
endowments,  and  added,  as  nearly  as  I  can  trans- 
late his  words,  '  I  think  this  right ;  and  on  this 
point  I  should  deprecate  any  great  organic  changes 
in  your  system ;  for  I  have  lived  long  enough  to 
know,  what  I  did  not  at  one  time  believe,  that  no 
society  can  be  upheld  in  happiness  and  honor  with- 
out the  sentiments  of  religion.'  "  * 

Let  us  now  return  to  the  question.  Is  there  any- 
thing in  the  scientific  study  of  nature  to  hinder  a 
man  from  becoming  religious,  in  the  only  way  in 
which  any  man  can  expect  to  become  so  ? 

Nobody  understands,  I  suppose,  that  the  scientific 
study  of  nature,  alone  considered,  will  make  a  man 
religious,  any  more  than  the  scientific  study  of  lan- 
guage or  of  law.  Religion,  I  repeat  it,  is  not  the 
fruit  of  a  scientific  study  of  anything;  —  not  even 
of  theology  or  the  Bible.  For  this  reason  we  are 
to  be  neither  surprised  nor  troubled  on  finding 
that  there  have  been  eminent  theologians  and  Bibli- 
cal critics,  who  were  not  religious  men.  Why  should 
they  have  been  so  for  that  reason  alone  ?  that  is  to 
say,  merely  for  knowing  how  a  passage  in  the  Greek 
Testament  is  to  be  read,  or  how  religious  systems 
are   to   be    framed   and    defended  ?  —  in   one    word, 

*  Sedgwick's  Discourse  on  the  Studies  of  the  University  of  Cambridge, 
Fifth  Edition,  p.  129. 


RELIGION  AND  PHYSICAL   SCIENCE.  127 

merely  because  they  are  good  linguists  or  good 
logicians  ?  Because  a  man  is  a  good  linguist  or  a 
good  logician,  it  does  not  follow  that  he  is  a  good 
Christian.  Those  who  are  fond  of  insisting,  and 
with  truth,  that  religion  is  not  a  distinct  and  for- 
eign substance,  to  be  patched  on  the  character, 
must  remember,  nevertheless,  that  it  is  a  distinct 
development  of  character ;  that  it  may  be,  or  may 
not  be,  developed  with  the  rest  of  the  character ; 
and  furthermore,  that  its  development  calls  for  dis- 
tinct and  appropriate  means. 

What  is  to  be  religious  ?  I  do  not  now  ask, 
how  a  man  begins  to  be  religious  ?  for  this  would 
bring  up  a  multitude  of  unsettled  questions.  But 
what  I  ask  is  simply  this,  let  a  man  begin  to  be 
religious  as  he  may,  when  can  he  be  said  to  have 
become  religious,  in  the  sense  of  having  a  religious 
character  ?  I  answer :  when  he  shows  himself  to 
possess  a  devout  habit  of  mind,  and  not  before. 
How  then,  I  ask  again,  is  a  devout  habit  of  mind 
to  be  acquired  and  maintained  ?  Obviously,  so  far 
at  least  as  it  depends  on  human  means,  in  the 
same  way  in  which  all  other  habits  are  acquired 
and  maintained ;  that  is,  by  a  repetition  of  the 
thoughts,  the  feelings,  the  actions,  which  go  to  make 
up  the  habit.  Hence  the  institution  of  stated  times 
and  modes  of  worship,  the  main  purpose  of  which 
is  to  keep  up  in  men  of  every  walk  in  life  a  relig- 


128  RELIGION  AND  PHYSICAL  SCIENCE. 

ious  consciousness,  that  is  to  say,  an  habitual  sense 
of  the  presence  and  agency  of  God  everywhere  and 
in  everything.  As  means  to  the  same  end,  we  may 
also  mention  faithfulness  to  the  duty  of  secret 
prayer,  the  reading  of  devotional  books  full  of  the 
inspiration  of  a  religious  genius,  and  especially,  of 
the  Bible,  —  not  as  a  critic,  but  for  its  practical 
and  devotional  uses ;  and  last,  though  not  least,  the 
society  of  religious  men,  and  well-written  lives  of 
the  religious  men  of  other  countries  and  other 
times,  considered  as  the  means  of  quickening  and 
enlarging  our  religious  sympathies.  Common  sense, 
as  well  as  the  Scriptures,  teach  us  that  it  is  only 
in  some  such  way  that  a  religious  habit  of  mind 
can  be  generated  and  upheld,  —  I  do  not  say,  in 
this,  or  that  condition  of  life,  but  in  any  condition 
of  life :  in  the  scholar,  the  artisan,  the  day-laborer ; 
in  the  man  of  business,  and  in  the  professional 
man ;  in  the  artist,  and  in  the  man  of  science. 
To  expect  it  to  be  generated  and  upheld  in  any 
other  way,  is  to  expect  an  effect  without  the  cause, 
a  state  of  mind  without  the  antecedents,  the  prepa- 
ration on  which  it  depends. 

Now  I  insist  that  the  principal,  if  not  the  solo 
danger  religion  has  to  apprehend  from  the  physical 
sciences,  even  in  those  most  devoted  to  them,  is  to 
be  found,  not  in  the  sciences  as  such,  but  in  the 
fact  that  they  are  apt  to  take  up  and  engross  the 


RELIGION  AND  PHYSICAL  SCIENCE.  129 

whole  mind.  A  man  may  become  a  mathematician 
or  a  naturalist,  and  nothing  else,  just  as  he  may 
become  a  lawyer,  or  a  merchant,  or  a  mechanic,  and 
nothing  else,  —  that  is,  to  the  forgetfulness,  or  at  least 
to  the  serious  neglect,  of  other  cares  and  duties, 
and  especially  of  his  own  social  and  moral  and  re- 
ligious culture.  But  it  would  be  neither  reasonable 
nor  fair,  in  such  cases,  to  ascribe  the  evil  to  the 
nature  of  the  pursuits  ;  —  it  comes  from  exclusive  de- 
votion to  them,  and  comes  whatever  may  be  the 
pursuit. 

There  is  nothing,  then,  in  the  scientific  study  of 
nature  to  hinder  men  from  resorting  to  the  usual 
and  necessary  means  of  becoming  religious,  or  to 
prevent  these  means  from  being  effectual.  And  this 
brings  us  to  the  second  question:  Supposing  a  man 
to  he  religious,  is  there  anything  in  a  scientific  view 
of  nature  to  hinder  him  from  taking,  at  the  same 
time,  a  religious  view  of  nature  ? 

Science  has  to  do  with  laws,  and  with  phenom- 
ena as  they  illustrate,  fall  under,  or  help  to  estab- 
lish these  laws.  An  impression,  I  believe,  prevails 
in  some  quarters,  that  these  laws,  in  a  scientific 
mind,  take  the  place  of  God,  and  exclude  him  from 
the  universe.     But  is  it  so  ? 

Need  I  repeat  here  what  has  been  said  so  often  ? 
Even  if  it  were  possible  to  resolve  every  phenom- 
enon of  nature  into  what  are  called  the  laws  of  na- 

6*  1 


130  RELIGION  AND  PHYSICAL   SCIENCE. 

ture,  it  would  not  be  to  take  a  single  step  towards 
dispensing  with  the  necessity  of  an  All-sustaining 
Energy,  and  an  All- controlling  Mind.  For,  in  the 
first  place,  the  existence  of  these  laws  would  still 
have  to  be  accounted  for ;  and,  in  the  second  place, 
supposing  them  to  exist,  they  are  not  a  force ;  they 
are  not  the  proper  cause  of  anything;  they  are  not 
an  agent,  but  only  the  rules,  or  conditions  by  which 
the  real  Agent  is  pleased  to  govern  himself;  and 
this  Agent  is  God.  Nay,  who  does  not  see  how 
much  less  inconsistency  there  would  be  in  sup- 
posing the  universe  the  work  of  chance,  if  it  were 
not  governed  by  general  laws,  and  according  to  a 
fixed  plan ;  because,  though  in  this  case  we  should 
still  want  a  power  to  account  for  the  motion,  we 
should  not  want  an  intelligence  to  account  for  regu- 
lar and  concerted  motion.  Indeed,  the  moment  we 
fully  recognize  the  fact  that  the  world  is  governed 
by  laws ;  that  order,  adaptation,  unity  are  every- 
where apparent;  that  there  are  unmistakable  traces 
of  a  plan,  extending  to  all  things,  comprehending  all 
things,  —  there  springs  up  in  the  mind,  unbidden  and 
irresistibly,  the  conviction  of  purpose  and  thought, 
that  is,  of  an  Intelligent  Author.  Thus  what  to 
the  scientific  mind  are  but  the  laws  of  nature,  be- 
come to  the  same  mind,  if  religious,  what,  in  the 
expressive  and  sublime  language  of  Scripture,  are 
called  "  the  Ways  of  God:' 


RELIGION  AND   PHYSICAL   SCIENCE.  131 

I  say,  "  to  the  same  mind,  if  religious " ;  for  I 
must  remind  you  once  more,  that  precisely  here  is 
the  great  difficulty,  not  only  in  men  of  science, 
but  in  all  men  devoted  to  intellectual  pursuits. 
As  a  general  rule,  I  believe  that  men  of  action  are 
more  inclined  to  religion,  than  men  of  study ;  and 
the  reason  is  obvious.  It  is  not,  as  some  would  in- 
terpret it,  because  a  superior  education  has  raised 
the  latter  above  religion,  but  because  a  one-sided 
education  has  made  them  incapable  of  it,  or,  at  any 
rate,  comparatively  unsusceptible  to  it.  It  is  be- 
cause their  habits  and  predispositions  lead  them  to 
look  at  religion  under  a  speculative  point  of  view, 
where  all  its  difficulties,  and  almost  none  of  its 
chief  attractions,  are  found.  Be  this,  however,  as  it 
may,  one  thing  is  clear:  a  man  must  be  religious 
in  himself,  before  he  can  be  expected  to  carry  re- 
ligion into  his  daily  work,  whether  of  body  or  mind. 
Unless  a  man  will  take  some  pains  to  acquire  a 
devout  habit  of  mind,  in  other  words,  unless  he 
will  take  some  pains  to  quicken  and  develop  that 
part  of  his  nature  to  which  religion  is  addressed,  it 
is  certain  that  no  amount  of  physical  knowledge 
will  make  him  properly  sensible  to  the  manifesta- 
tions of  God  in  the  material  world.  He  may  open 
the  book  of  nature  where  he  will,  and  it  will  be  to 
him,  under  a  religious  point  of  view,  a  blank  page ; 
while  to  those  who  have  not   neglected   their   con- 


132  EELIGION  AND   PHYSICAL   SCIENCE. 

sciences  and  souls  in  the  exclusive  culture  of  the 
intellect,  and  who  therefore  read  it  with  a  prepared 
mind,  it  will  be  written  all  over  with  lessons  of  ado- 
ration and  praise,  of  solemn  awe  and  humble  trust. 

Nay,  more  ;  these  "  laws  of  nature,"  from  which 
so  much  danger  to  religion  is  apprehended,  —  when 
rightly  viewed,  they  not  only  do  not  remove  God 
further  from  us,  but  have  the  effect  to  bring  him 
strangely,  startlingly  near.  They  not  only  prove  ar- 
rangement, contrivance,  a  plan,  —  that  is  to  say,  con- 
nected and  intelligent  thought,  —  but,  in  proportion 
as  we  succeed  in  comprehending  them,  they  enable 
us  to  enter  into  that  thought.  The  human  mind 
is  conscious  of  being  where  the  Divine  Mind  has 
been  before,  —  perhaps  I  ought  to  say,  where  the 
Divine  Mind  is  now.  And  besides,  a  world  not  gov- 
erned by  fixed  laws  would  be  a  chaos,  not  a  crea- 
tion. Accordingly  it  is  only  by  tracing  these  laws 
that  we  can  attain  to  a  conception  of  a  Creative 
Mind,  and  put  ourselves  into  communication  with 
it.  Nothing  is  to  be  feared,  everything  is  to  bo 
hoped,  from  the  progress  of  scientific  culture,  pro- 
vided only  that  moral  and  spiritual  culture  goes 
along  with  it,  hand  in  hand.  To  a  religious  mind 
God  is  best  seen,  not  in  that  part  of  nature  which 
is  least  understood,  but  in  that  part  of  nature 
which  is  best  understood. 

Let  me  add,  that  whoever  begins  by  thus  recog- 


RELIGION  AND  PHYSICAL   SCIENCE.  133 

nizing  in  nature  a  personal  and  living  God,  will 
not  be  likely  to  stop  there.  There  is  nothing  in 
the  study  of  the  laws  of  nature  by  a  devout  mind 
to  exclude  the  idea  of  a  Revelation,  though  this 
Revelation  be  a  miracle,  and  authenticated  by  mira- 
cles. God  acts  in  and  through  laws;  not  however 
from  necessity,  but  because,  as  a  general  rule,  it  is 
obviously  important  and  indispensable  to  the  safety 
and  happiness  of  his  children,  who  otherwise  would 
not  know  what  to  depend  upon.  If  then  an  exi- 
gency should  arise,  in  which  the  safety  and  happi- 
ness of  his  children  require  a  deviation  from  the 
usual  order  of  things,  from  his  ordinary  rule  of 
action,  in  all  such  cases  the  rule  must  give  way  to 
the  principle  which  dictated  the  rule.  There  is  no 
inconsistency  or  contradiction  here ;  no  change  of 
purpose ;  no  disregard  even  for  law,  for  he  still 
obeys  the  law  of  all  laws,  the  law  of  his  own  na- 
ture, which  is,  to  do  in  every  instance  what  is 
wisest  and  best. 

Moreover,  what  we  know  of  religion  by  the  study 
of  nature  has  the  effect  to  create  in  us  an  earnest 
longing  to  know  more.  A  curiosity  is  awakened, 
which  is  not  appeased ;  problems  are  suggested, 
which  are  not  solved ;  a  mysterious  hand  is  laid  on 
the  veil,  and  we  wait  in  humble,  awful  expectation 
to  see  that  veil  lifted  up.  Once  believe,  no  matter 
on  what  evidence,  in   a  personal  and  living   God, 


134  RELIGION  AND  PHYSICAL  SCIENCE. 

and  that  lie  is  a  loving  and  tender  Father  of  all 
men,  and  after  that,  the  wonder  is,  not  that  he  has 
interposed  at  times,  but  that  he  does  not  interpose 
oftener.  Thus  it  is,  that  the  recognition  of  God  in 
nature  prepares  the  way  for  the  recognition  of  God 
in  Christ.  We  accept  the  declaration,  "  God,  who 
at  sundry  times  and  in  divers  manners  spake  in 
times  past  unto  the  fathers  by  the  prophets,  has  in 
these  last  days  spoken  unto  us  by  his  Son."  How 
then  can  we  resist  the  appeal  ?  "  See  that  ye  refuse 
not  liim  that  speaketh.  For  if  they  escaped  not 
who  refused  him  that  spake  on  earth,  much  more 
shall  not  we  escape,  if  we  turn  away  from  him  that 
speaketh  from  heaven." 


CONSCIENCE. 

AND  PAUL,  EARNESTLY  BEHOLDING  THE  COUNCIL,  SAID:  MEN  AND 
BRETHREN,  I  HATE  LIVED  IN  ALL  GOOD  CONSCIENCE  BEFORE 
GOD    UNTIL   THIS   DAT.  —  ActS  Xxiil.    1. 

The  Apostle  Paul  began  bis  defence  before  his 
countrymen  with  this  noble  declaration,  and  though 
but  his  own  testimony  in  his  own  favor,  it  is  abun- 
dantly confirmed  by  what  we  know  of  his  character 
from  other  sources.  We  have  every  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  he  was  what  is  called  "  a  conscientious 
man"  before  he  became  a  Christian,  as  well  as 
afterwards.  By  his  own  confession,  he  "  was  before 
a  blasphemer,  and  a  persecutor,  and  injurious ;  but 
I  obtained  mercy,"  he  adds,  "  because  I  did  it  igno- 
rantly  in  unbelief."  Again  he  says :  "  I  verily  thought 
with  myself,  that  I  ouglit  to  do  many  things  con- 
trary to  the  name  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth." 

But  if  it  be  conceded  that  Paul  was  a  conscien- 
tious man  before  his  conversion,  the  question  very 
naturally  arises,  How  then  can  his  conversion  be  said 
to  have  made  him  a  better  man  ?  I  answer,  in  one 
word,  —  because  it  made  his  conscience  a  better  con- 


136  CONSCIENCE. 

science.  A  man  may  be  no  more  observant  of  con- 
science than  formerly ;  but  he  may  have  a  better 
conscience  to  observe. 

Nothing  has  done  so  much  to  perplex  men's 
speculations  about  conscience  as  certain  fundamental 
mistakes  respecting  its  proper  nature  and  functions. 

In  the  first  place,  conscience  is  not  a  law,  but  a 
faculty;  not  the  decision  pronounced  in  a  particular 
case,  but  the  faculty  which  pronounces  the  decision. 
As  reflective  beings,  we  are  constrained  to  endure 
our  own  review  of  our  own  conduct,  including  our 
dispositions  and  intentions.  Such,  also,  is  our  men- 
tal constitution,  that  we  cannot  knowingly  do  ill 
without  feeling  that  we  deserve  ill,  or  knowingly 
do  well  without  feeling  that  we  deserve  well.  Hence 
we  are  said  to  have  not  merely  a  sensitive  and  in- 
tellectual nature,  but  also  a  moral  nature ;  and  the 
peculiar  faculty  by  which  this  moral  nature  mani- 
fests itself,  as  far  as  it  is  manifested,  is  called 
conscience. 

Again ;  this  faculty  is  susceptible  of  instruction 
and  improvement,  like  other  faculties  of  the  human 
mind ;  Hke  the  understanding,  for  example,  or  the 
taste.  Of  course,  I  do  not  mean  that  conscience  is 
wholly  a  factitious  thing,  that  education  makes  it, 
any  more  than  it  makes  the  understanding  or  the 
taste.  Every  faculty,  properly  so  called,  depends 
for  its  existence  on  the  original  constitution  of  the 


CONSCIENCE.  137 

human  mind,  and,  considered  under  this  point  of 
view,  must  be  regarded  as  "the  inspiration  of  the 
Almighty."  But  then  it  is  also  true,  that  every 
such  faculty,  and  conscience  among  the  rest,  de- 
pends mainly  for  its  development^  for  both  the  man- 
ner and  degree  of  its  development^  on  education, 
including  under  this  term  all  the  influences  which 
are  intentionally  or  unintentionally  brought  to  bear 
upon  it.  And  this  being  the  case,  who  does  not 
see  that  one  man's  conscience  may  be  better  than 
another's,  just  as  one  man's  understanding  or  taste 
may  be  better  than  another's,  and  again  that  the 
same  man's  conscience  may  be  better  at  one  time 
than  at  another  ? 

There  is  also  another  important  distinction  to  be 
made  in  respect  to  conscience.  Its  authority  is 
sometimes  said  to  be  supreme  and  final.  And  so  it 
is,  in  a  certain  sense ;  that  is  to  say,  it  is  supreme 
and  final  over  every  other  kind  of  human  motive 
and  inducement ;  should  a  conflict  arise,  our  sense 
of  what  is  right  ought  to  prevail,  in  all  cases,  over 
our  sense  of  what  is  expedient  or  agreeable.  But 
the  authority  of  conscience  is  not  supreme  and  final 
in  such  a  sense  as  to  forbid  conscience  itself  from 
revising,  and,  if  need  be,  reversing,  its  own  past 
decisions.  I  may  appeal  at  any  time  from  my  con- 
science less  instructed  to  my  conscience  more  instruct- 
ed, and  under  these   circumstances  what  was  right 


138  CONSCIENCE. 

to  me  yesterday,  may  become  wrong  to  me  to-day; 
and  what  is  right  to  me  to-day,  may  become  wrong 
to  me  to-morrow.  Indeed,  it  is  hardly  proper  to 
speak  of  this  as  something  which  may  be  ;  it  ought 
to  be,  and  must  be,  as  men  advance  in  wisdom  and 
virtue.  All  will  agree,  I  suppose,  that  self-culture, 
including  moral  progress,  is  a  duty ;  and  also  that 
one  of  the  most  essential  parts  of  this  duty  is  the 
duty  of  clearing  up  our  conceptions  of  right  and 
wrong,  especially  in  reference  to  the  more  com- 
plicated rules  of  duty,  and  to  the  application  of 
these  rules  to  the  more  complicated  affairs  of  life. 
Preachers  may  say  what  they  will,  still  the  fact  is 
indisputable,  that  good  men,  even  the  best  men,  are 
often  at  a  less  what  to  do,  —  at  a  loss  what  course 
to  take.  The  perplexity  here  referred  to  does  not 
arise,  certainly  not  in  all  cases,  from  unwillingness 
to  face  the  difficulty,  or  to  make  the  sacrifices,  at- 
tending the  right  course,  but  from  real  ignorance 
or  doubt  as  to  which  is  the  right  course.  This,  to 
be  sure,  is  not  likely  to  happen  in  simple  and  plain 
cases  of  duty;  but  simple  and  plain  cases  of  duty 
are  not  met  with  in  life  as  often  as  they  are  in 
books.  In  life  things  are  jumbled  together  very 
unscientifically.  More  than  half  our  duties  relate 
to  matters  only  indirectly  connected  with  morals ; 
or  to  measures,  customs,  or  institutions,  where  the 
moral    question    is   so   mixed   up  with   other   ques- 


CONSCIENCE.  139 

tions,  as  to  make  it  easy  for  us  to  deceive  our- 
selves, or  be  deceived  by  others,  and  easier  still 
to  take  up  with  the  current  opinion  without  ex- 
amination. Hence  our  need  not  only  of  a  con- 
science, but  of  an  enlightened  conscience,  —  of  a 
conscience  willing  to  revise  its  old  decisions  under 
new  lights,  and  to  correct  them  if  necessary. 

But  if  conscience  itself  is  an  improvable  faculty, 
and  if,  in  its  legitimate  action  to-day,  it  can  revise 
and  reverse  its  own  decisions  of  yesterday,  the  ques- 
tion naturally  arises.  Is  there  anything  in  conscience 
which  is  fixed  and  absolute  ? 

I  answer,  Yes.  The  things  which  are  fixed  and 
absolute  in  conscience  —  that  is  to  say,  the  things 
which  are  the  same  in  all  consciences,  and  the  same 
in  every  conscience  at  all  times  —  would  seem  to  be 
these  three.  In  the  first  place,  all  consciences  make 
a  distinction  between  actions  as  being  right  or 
wrong ;  secondly,  the  notion  of  right,  as  such,  or 
of  wrong,  as  such,  is  identical  to  all  minds  ;  and, 
thirdly,  all  concur  in  the  feeling  that  they  ought 
to  do  what  they  believe  to  be  right. 

So  far  conscience  is  fixed,  absolute,  infallible. 
But  let  us  understand  ourselves.  In  saying  that 
all  consciences  make  a  distinction  between  actions, 
classifying  some  as  right  and  others  as  wrong,  we 
do  not  mean  that  all  make  the  same  distinction 
in  the  sense  of  making  the  same  classification.    The 


140  CONSCIENCE. 

simple  conception  of  right  and  wrong  is  identical 
to  all  minds;  when,  however,  we  are  called  upon 
to  apply  this  conception  to  complicated  actions  and 
dispositions,  nothing  hinders  us  from  differing  from 
one  another,  and  even  from  ourselves  at  different 
times,  on  the  question,  under  which  head  a  par- 
ticular action  or  disposition,  a  particular  institution 
or  measure,  is  to  be  classed.  Strictly  speaking,  we 
never  differ  as  to  the  distinction  between  right  and 
wrong,  but  only  as  to  the  application  of  this  dis- 
tinction in  certain  cases  ;  and  here,  too,  the  differ- 
ence arises,  not  from  our  not  understanding  the 
distinction  between  right  and  wrong,  but  for  the 
most  part  from  our  not  understanding  the  meas- 
ures, the  actions,  or  the  states  of  mind  to  be  judged. 
Moreover,  though  all  concur,  as  I  have  said,  in 
feeling  that  we  ought  to  do  what  is  right,  nothing 
hinders  that  this  feeling  should  exist  in  different 
minds,  and  in  the  same  mind  at  different  times,  in 
very  different  degrees ;  —  in  some  hardly  appreciable  ; 
in  others,  so  intense  as  to  make  the  pains  and  pleas- 
ures of  conscience  their  chief  happiness  or  misery. 
Still  the  feeling  itself  never  changes  its  essential 
character.  Under  no  circumstances  whatever  can 
the  moral  sentiments  with  which  acknowledged  vir- 
tue and  vice  are  respectively  regarded  be  made  to 
change  places.  We  may  approve  a  wrong  action, 
mistaking  it  for  a  right  one  ;   we  may  also  incline 


CONSCIENCE.  .  141 

to  a  wrong  action,  notwithstanding  it  is  wrong, 
from  motives  of  interest  or  self-indulgence  ;  but  no 
perversion  of  nature  or  education  can  make  us  feel 
that  we  ought  to  do  what  we  know  to  be  wrong,  or 
that  we  ought  not  to  do  what  we  know  to  be  right. 

I  dwell  on  these  distinctions,  because  I  would  not 
be  thought  to  suppose  or  imply,  in  speaking  of 
conscience  as  an  improvable  faculty,  that  conscience 
is  wholly  factitious^  —  the  creature  of  circumstances, 
of  training,  of  caprice.  I  believe  no  such  thing. 
If  there  is  a  mutable,  there  is  also  an  immutable 
element  in  conscience.  In  its  principle  and  essence, 
conscience  is  not  an  arbitrary  thing ;  it  is  not  some- 
thing which  experience  and  education  put  into  men, 
but  something  which  they  bring  out,  by  bringing 
out  his  moral  nature,  —  though,  in  different  men,  in 
very  different  degrees  and  proportions.  The  con- 
science of  each  individual  is  a  special  development 
of  our  common  moral  nature ;  —  a  more  or  less  per- 
fect development,  but  still  a  development  of  our 
common  moral  nature,  and  therefore  always  mani- 
festing, more  or  less  perfectly,  the  essential  and 
unchanging  properties  of  that  nature,  and  so  far 
always  the  same.  It  is  only  necessary  that  we 
should  avoid  confounding  a  man's  conscience  with 
his  moral  nature,  just  as  we  avoid  confounding  a 
man's  actual  taste  with  his  aesthetic  nature.  They 
are  two  things  distinct  in  themselves,  and  always  to 


142  CONSCIENCE. 

be  kept  so  in  our  thoughts.  A  man's  moral  na- 
ture is  his  innate  capacity  of  moral  discrimination ; 
it  is  part  and  parcel  of  our  common  human  na- 
ture, and,  for  anything  known  to  the  contrary,  is 
the  same  in  all  men.  But  this  moral  nature,  this 
innate  capacity  of  moral  discrimination,  may  be 
wholly  latent^  as  in  the  case  of  infants,  who  cannot 
be  said  to  have  any  consciences,  though  they  have 
a  moral  nature ;  and  it  is  more  or  less  so  in  adults. 
What  we  insist  upon  is,  that  a  man's  conscience, 
properly  so-called,  does  not  include  that  part  of 
his  moral  nature  which  is  still  latent ;  it  consists 
of  that  part  only  which  has  been  put  forth,  which 
has  come  out  into  consciousness  and  activity.  In 
other  words,  the  conscience  of  an  individual  is,  as 
I  have  said,  a  special  development  of  our  common 
moral  nature,  more  or  less  true,  more  or  less  .com- 
plete, but  not  likely  to  be  identical  in  any  two 
persons. 

And  so  the  Scriptures.  They  speak,  indeed,  of 
conscience  as  "  showing,"  as  "  bearing  witness  to," 
as  revealing,  but  not  as  being  "  the  work  of  the 
law  written  in  men's  hearts."  While  they  repre- 
sent some  as  acting  from  "  a  pure  conscience  "  and 
"  a  good  conscience,"  they  say  of  others,  "  But 
even  their  mind  and  conscience  is  defiled ; "  and 
again,  "  Having  their  conscience  seared  with  a  hot 
iron."     They    also    ask,    "  Yea,    and    why    even   of 


CONSCIENCE.  143 

yourselves  judge  ye  not  what  is  right?"  —  clearly 
implying  two  things  ;  first,  that  our  consciences  may 
judge  amiss,  and,  secondly,  that  they  often  do  so 
from  defects  which  we  might  ourselves  supply  by 
reflection  and  discipline. 

I  return,  therefore,  to  the  position  taken  in  the 
beginning :  whether  we  consult  reason,  or  experi- 
ence, or  Scripture,  we  come  to  the  conclusion,  that 
conscience  is  an  improvable  faculty.  It  is  a  mis- 
take to  suppose  that  all  men  share  a  common  con- 
science ;  they  share,  and  perhaps  equally,  a  common 
-moral  nature,  but  this  common  moral  nature  be- 
comes conscience,  as  the  very  name  imports,  only  in 
so  far  as  it  is  put  forth  into  consciousness  and  ac- 
tivity, only  in  so  far  as  it  is  developed  and  made 
effective  in  the  individual.  Each  man's  conscience 
is  a  special  development  of  our  common  moral  na- 
ture ;  and  each  man's  duty  in  respect  to  it  is,  to 
take  care  that  this  special  development  shall  be 
more  and  more  complete,  and  more  and  more  effec- 
tive ;  in  short,  that  he  may  have  a  better  conscience 
to  obey,  and  obey  it  more  faithfully. 

It  only  remains  to  consider  the  means  and  ap- 
pliances by  which  this  twofold  improvement,  this 
progress,  at  the  same  time,  in  conscience  and  in 
conscientiousness,  may  be  promoted  and  secured. 

The  first  condition  is,  a  habit  of  attending  to  the 
moral  aspects  and  bearings  of  things,  and  especially 


144  CONSCIENCE. 

of  our  own  dispositions  and  conduct ;  in  one  word, 
moral  thonghtfulness.  This  would  be  true,  even  if 
we  started  in  life  with  a  conscience  ready  formed. 
We  are  affected  by  what  we  at  present  know  or 
believe,  only  in  so  far  as  we  attend  to  it ;  and  hence 
an  apparent  anomaly  often  noticed.  Some  men  are 
a  great  deal  better,  and  others  a  great  deal  worse 
than  their  principles,  meaning  thereby  the  moral 
and  religious  principles  really  held  by  them,  but  not 
attended  to.  And  this  remark  applies  with  tenfold 
force,  where  the  principles,  as  in  the  case  of  a 
man's  conscience,  are  not  only  to  be  held,  but  de- 
veloped. Wliy  is  it  that  among  savages  the  animal 
instincts  and  passions  are  developed  so  dispropor- 
tionately ?  Because  there  the  animal  instincts  and 
passions  are  almost  the  only  things  thought  of,  or 
appealed  to.  Why  is  it  that  during  long  periods 
of  moral  and  social  degeneracy  almost  every  manly 
and  unselfish  quality  of  human  nature  seems  to  die 
out  ?  It  is  simply  because  these  qualities  are  not 
put  forth ;  and  they  are  not  put  forth  because  they 
are  not  cared  for  or  appreciated.  And  how  are  the 
great  epochs  of  awakening  and  reform  to  be  ex- 
plained ?  Simply  by  the  fact  that,  somehow  or 
other,  the  public  attention  is  thoroughly  aroused  to 
the  public  needs,  often  by  a  sense  of  the  very 
depths  of  the  public  infamy  and  despair.  At  first 
the  thought  seizes  hold  of  here  and  there  a  leading 


CONSCIENCE.  145 

mind  ;  gradually  it  becomes  the  ever-present  thought 
of  the  community,  of  the  age ;  and  human  nature 
reasserts  its  noblest  qualities  once  more.  Why  is 
it,  that  on  some  points,  such,  for  example,  as  peace, 
temperance,  and  human  rights,  our  consciences  are 
evidently  in  advance  of  the  consciences  of  our  fathers, 
while  on  many  others  it  is  equally  evident  that  the 
reverse  is  true  ?  Simply  and  solely  because  the 
former  points  are  more  attended  to  by  us  :  we  are 
more  alive  to  them ;  they  are  more  in  our  thoughts. 
It  is  moral  thoughtfulness,  taking  the  special  direc- 
tion given  to  it  by  the  age. 

A  second  necessary  condition  of  the  twofold 
moral  progress  required  —  of  progress  in  both  con- 
science and  conscientiousness  —  is  found  in  a  deter- 
mination to  do  right,  cost  what  it  may ;  in  other 
words,  to  moral  thoughtfulness  we  must  add  an  in- 
vincible moral  purpose.  We  often  hear  it  said,  that 
men  mean  well  enough  when  they  start  in  life,  even 
though  afterwards  led  astray  by  temptation ;  but 
this  remark  is  true  only  in  a  very  limited  and 
qualified  sense.  I  do  not  suppose  that  many  start 
in  life  with  a  determination  to  become  murderers, 
robbers,  rogues,  or  drunkards  ;  their  error  consists, 
not  in  starting  with  a  had  moral  purpose,  but  with 
no  moral  purpose ;  at  least,  with  none  that  is  don- 
trolling  and  effectual.  They  are  looking  to  ease, 
pleasure,  success :  the  best  that  can  be  said  of  them 

7  J 


146  CONSCIENCE. 

under  a  moral  point  of  view  is,  that  they  hope  and 
perhaps  expect  to  gain  their  objects  without  falling 
into  crime.  Not  one  man  in  a  thousand,  in  choosing 
his  profession,  or  laying  down  his  plan  of  life,  is  in- 
fluenced solely  or  mainly  by  a  purpose  to  make  him- 
self as  perfect  as  possible  in  the  sight  of  God. 

And  this  is  not  all.  Much  of  what  passes  for  fidel- 
ity to  conscience  is  nothing  but  fidelity  to  prejudice  or 
to  party.  A  man  is  educated  in  a  set  of  principles, 
which  may  be  right  or  may  be  wrong,  or,  more 
probably  still,  partly  right  and  partly  wrong,  or  he 
is  converted  to  such  a  set  of  principles,  and  after- 
wards deems  it  sufficient  to  be  true  to  these  prin- 
ciples ;  as  if  duty  were  nothing  but  an  inexorable 
consistency.  The  double  progress  incumbent  on  all 
men  makes  it  necessary  for  us  to  put  to  ourselves, 
at  least  at  every  important  turn  of  our  affairs,  not 
one  question  only,  but  two,  —  Am  I  faithful  to  my 
principles  ?  and.  Are  my  principles  what  they  should 
be  ?  Neglect  of  the  latter  is  as  much  of  an  im- 
morality as  neglect  of  the  former.  Remember,  the 
moral  purpose,  of  which  I  speak  as  being  at  the 
foundation  of  a  good  life,  is  not  a  purpose  to  obey 
our  consciences  as  they  are,  whether  well  or  ill-ad- 
vised, but  a  purpose  to  do  right;  and  this  involves 
the  purpose,  to  endeavor  to  find  out  what  is  riglit, 
that  we  may  do  it ;  and  this,  again,  the  still  rarer 
and  more  difficult  purpose,  to  bring  to  the  subject 


CONSCIENCE.  147 

that  fairness  and  earnestness  of  mind  which  is  in- 
dispensable to  practical  wisdom ;  and,  above  all,  to 
shun  those  illusions,  deceits,  self-indulgences  and 
sins,  by  which  so  many  are  given  over  to  a  repro- 
bate mind,  "  to  believe  a  lie." 

The  progress  insisted  on  in  this  discourse  sup- 
poses another  condition  ;  namely,  that  we  not  only 
obey  conscience,  but  obey  it  as  an  echo  of  the  Di- 
vine will :  in  other  words,  to  moral  thoughtfulness 
and  a  moral  jDurpose  we  must  add  a  sense  of  the 
autlwrity  and  sanctions  of  7'eligion.  Our  moral  na- 
ture is  what  God  has  made  it  to  be  ;  so  that  when 
conscience  is  a  legitimate  development  of  this  na- 
ture, it  may  be  regarded  as  a  Divine  utterance, — 
the  voice  of  God,  speaking  in  and  through  our 
moral  nature.  Disobedience,  therefore,  becomes  not 
merely  an  offence  against  conscience  ;  it  is  also  an 
offence  against  God,  bringing  us  under  the  judg- 
ment of  God.  The  penalty  begins,  I  allow,  in  the 
hurt  done  our  own  moral  nature,  —  in  shame  and 
remorse  ;  but  it  does  not  end  there  :  if  it  did,  con- 
stitutional dulness  in  some,  and  blindness  and  hard- 
ness of  heart  in  others,  would  make  them  careless 
and  indifferent  about  it.  I  do  not  go  to  the  ex- 
treme of  holding  that  there  would  be  no  conscience 
without  religion,  no  foundation  for  morality  with- 
out some  recognition  of  the  will  of  God.  Suppose 
all   sense   of  the    Divine   being   and    agency   to  be 


148  CONSCIENCE. 

blotted  out  of  the  human  heart,  I  believe  that  con- 
science would  still  lift  up  its  voice  against  base- 
ness and  crime  ;  but  in  the  presence  of  sore  trial 
and  temptation,  in  the  stress  and  din  of  conflicting 
interests  and  passions  and  opinions,  who  would  re- 
gard it  ?  What  gives  effect  to  conscience  is  the 
mysterious  and  salutary  dread,  never  entirely  effaced 
even  from  the  guilty  soul,  that  there  is  an  Almighty 
Vindicator  and  Avenger  of  conscience.  This  feeling, 
this  principle,  all  should  guard  and  nourish  ;  not  in- 
deed as  a  substitute  for  conscience,  but  as  re-enforcing 
conscience,  and  practically  indispensable  to  its  un- 
folding life  and  power. 

One  condition  more.  To  make  us  more  observant 
of  conscience,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  make  con- 
science what  it  ought  to  be,  we  must  take  our 
standard  of  righteousness  from  the  New  Testament. 
To  moral  thoughtfulness,  a  moral  purpose,  and  the 
sanctions  of  religion,  we  must  add  a  heart  pene- 
trated and  filled  with  the  spirit  that  was  in  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Without  sympathizing  at  all 
with  those  who  are  sometimes  tempted  to  speak  of 
Christianity  as  a  failure,  I  still  cannot  help  think- 
ing that  its  good  effects,  at  least  on  the  moral  and 
social  condition  of  mankind,  have  not  been  so  great 
as  might  naturally  have  been  expected.  This  is 
doubtless  to  be  ascribed,  not  to  Christianity,  but  to 
Christians,  who  have  always  been  more  disposed  to 


CONSCIENCE.  149 

consider  the  Christian  scheme  of  salvation  in  its 
relations  to  God,  than  in  its  relations  to  them- 
selves,—  his  part  in  that  scheme  rather  than  ours. 
Most  clearly  we  are  not  to  be  saved  by  the  scheme, 
or  by  knowing  and  believing  the  scheme,  except 
through  its  effect  in  fitting  us  for  the  kingdom 
of  Heaven,  in  making  us  capable  of  the  Christian 
salvation.  We  are  to  be  saved  by  the  truth  only 
in  so  far  as  we  live  the  truth.  Let  no  one  be 
turned  aside  from  tliis  conclusion  by  fear  of  the 
senseless  clamor,  that  tliis  is  making  salvation  to 
depend  on  morality,  a  ground  on  which  pagans 
might  be  saved  as  well  as  Christians.  I  am  not 
speaking  here  of  morality,  simply  considered ;  much 
less  of  pagan  morality  ;  but  of  the  morality  of  the 
Gospel,  the  morality  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 
I  am  not  speaking  of  mere  righteousness,  but  of 
"  the  righteousness  which  is  of  faith ; "  not  of 
obedience  to  conscience,  whether  well  or  ill  in- 
structed, but  of  obedience  to  conscience  enlight- 
ened and  sanctified  by  the  Holy  Spirit ;  — "  till 
we  all  come  in  the  unity  of  the  faith,  and  of  the 
knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God,  unto  a  perfect  man, 
unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of 
Christ." 

Look  again  at  the  example  of  Paul.  What  a 
noble  declaration  was  that  with  which  he  was  able 
to  begin  his  defence  before  his  countrymen :   "  Men 


150  CONSCIENCE. 

and  brethren,  I  have  lived  in  all  good  conscience 
before  God  until  this  day."  Still  he  was  not  con- 
tent with  this,  and  therefore  he  says,  in  another 
place :  "  Not  as  though  I  had  already  attained, 
either  were  already  perfect ;  but  I  follow  after,  if 
that  I  may  apprehend  that  for  which  also  I  am  ap- 
prehended of  Christ  Jesus.  Brethren,  I  count  not 
myself  to  have  apprehended ;  but  this  one  thing  I 
do :  forgetting  those  things  which  are  behind,  and 
reaching  forth  to  those  things  which  are  before,  I 
press  toward  the  mark,  for  the  prize  of  the  high 
calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus."  Here  lay  the 
secret  of  his  greatness.  He  did  not  rely  on  a 
morbidly  sensitive  conscience,  the  vain  refuge  of 
fanatics ;  nor  yet  on  the  hard  rigor  of  an  obstinate 
conscience,  the  still  vainer  refuge  of  bigots ;  but  on 
a  conscience  as  quick  to  learn  as  to  feel,  —  a  con- 
science speaking  with  the  authority  of  God,  and 
therefore  listening  reverently  to  every  new  revelation 
from  God,  insisting  on  the  law  of  progress,  and  there- 
fore the  more  ready  to  be  itself  included  under 
that  law,  accepting  life  as  a  struggle,  and  turning 
that  struggle  into  a  victory.  Hence  the  triumphant 
words  with  which  he  could  look  forward  to  his 
death  are  nobler  even  than  those  with  which,  in 
the  text,  he  had  looked  back  on  his  past  life.  "  I 
am  now  ready  to  be  offered,  and  the  time  of  my 
departure  is  at  hand.     I  have  fought  a  good  fight ; 


CONSCIENCE.  151 

I  have  finished  my  course ;  I  have  kept  the  faith. 
Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of 
righteousness  which  the  Lord,  the  righteous  Judge, 
shall  give  me  at  that  day ;  and  not  to  me  only,  but 
unto  all  those  also  that  love  his  appearing." 


MOTIVES. 

WHILE    I   WAS   MUSING   THE   FIKE   BURNED.  —  Psalm  XXxix.  3. 

When  we  witness  the  performance  of  a  noble 
deed,  when  we  become  acquainted  with  a  noble 
character,  when  we  read  the  life  of  a  great  and 
good  man,  we  are  tempted  to  ascribe  his  superiority, 
in  great  measure  at  least,  to  a  difference  of  circum- 
stances. "  He  has  had  facilities,  incentives,  motives," 
we  are  apt  to  say,  "  such  as  have  not  fallen  to  the 
lot  of  most  men.  Give  us  the  same  facilities,  give 
us  the  same  incentives  and  motives  to  virtue,  and  we 
should  be  glad  to  do  as  he  has  done.  The  differ- 
ence in  his  moral  attainments  is  mainly  owing  to 
the  different  influences  under  which  he  has  acted. 
He  has  felt  motives  which  we  have  not." 

Undoubtedly  there  is  a  sense  in  which  this  is 
true.  He  has  felt  motives  which  we  have  not.  But 
luhy  has  he  felt  them? 

To  answer  this  question,  we  must  begin  by  an- 
swering several  others  on  which  it  depends.  What 
are   motives  ?    What   gives    efficacy  to    one   motive 


MOTIVES.  153 

over  another  in  particular  cases  ?  And  why  is  it, 
that  while  this  man  is  alive  to  the  highest  motives 
of  human  conduct,  that  man  is  alive  only  to  the 
lowest  ?  We  must  press  each  of  these  questions  home, 
and  then,  perhaps,  it  will  appear,  that  what  is  often 
set  forward  as  an  excuse,  is  only  another  ground 
for  humiliation  and  self-reproach. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  ivhat  are  motives^  externally 
considered?  All  will  agree,  I  suppose,  that  they  do 
not  act  on  the  mind  as  impulse  acts  on  bodies ;  that 
is,  by  virtue  of  a  power  or  momentum  which  they 
possess  in  themselves,  and  independently  of  the  per- 
sons moved.  Neither  is  it  a  mere  transference  of 
motion  from  one  body  to  another ;  as  when  one  ball 
strikes  another  ball,  and  causes  it  to  move.  Motives 
act  on  the  mind,  it  is  true,  but  not  until  the  mind 
has  first  acted  on  them.  They  act  on  the  mind 
accordingly  as  they  affect  the  mind  ;  but  then  they 
affect  the  mind  according  to  the  view  which  the 
mind  is  led  by  its  prevailing  habits  and  dispositions 
to  take  of  them.  Set  before  a  promiscuous  collec- 
tion of  men  a  great  variety  of  motives,  —  such  as 
ease,  pleasure,  wealth,  influence,  fame,  conscious  in- 
tegrity,—  and  you  will  soon  perceive  that  the  law 
of  elective  affinities  holds  as  good  in  the  moral  as 
in  the  natural  world.  Each  individual  will  be 
affected  mainly,  if  not  exclusively,  by  that  class  of 
motives    which    falls   in   with    his   prevailing   habits 

7* 


154  MOTIVES. 

and  dispositions.  One  will  give  up  everything  to 
enjoy  ease  ;  another  will  risk  everything  to  indulge 
in  pleasure ;  a  third  will  do  anything  and  every- 
thing to  obtain  wealth,  influence,  or  fame ;  a  fourth 
is  only  anxious  that  he  may  do  what  is  right. 
Thus  one  man  is  influenced  and  determined  by  one 
motive,  and  another  by  another ;  and  yet  none  can 
complain,  that  all  the  motives  were  not  set  before 
him. 

Motives,  then,  are  considerations  set  before  a 
rational  being,  not  to  move  him,  in  the  strict  sense 
of  that  word,  but  to  induce  him  to  move  himself. 
After  all,  the  principle  of  motion  is  not  in  the 
motive,  but  in  the  man  himself.  Strictly  speaking, 
in  our  voluntary  acts  we  are  never  moved ;  we 
always  move  ourselves.  The  motive,  externally  con- 
sidered, is  the  reason  or  consideration  for  acting,  or 
not  acting,  in  a  particular  way  ;  which,  of  course, 
will  be  attended  to  and  appreciated  very  differently 
by  different  persons,  and  so  affect  them  very  differ- 
ently. 

Let  us  next  consider,  what  gives  efficacy  to  one 
motive  over  another  in  particular  cases  ?  An  opinion 
prevails  on  this  subject,  which,  though  true  to  a 
certain  extent,  may  be  pushed  too  far.  It  is  said 
that  motives  affect  us  through  the  concurrence  of 
good  or  bad  dispositions  previously  existing  in  our 
own  minds.     Of  course,  nobody  will  deny  that  where 


MOTIVES.  155 

the  motive  falls  in  with  a  strong  propensity  already- 
existing  in  the  mind,  it  is  much  more  likely  to 
prevail  on  that  account.  But  we  should  remem- 
ber, there  was  a  time  when  this  propensity  had  not 
begun  to  manifest  itself,  and  that  it  never  would 
have  manifested  itself  at  all  except  on  condition  of 
some  motive  which  had  power  to  awaken  it,  —  to 
call  it  forth.  Now  what  gives  to  motives  this  power 
to  call  forth  a  latent  propensity,  or  disposition  of 
the  soul,  in  the  first  instance  ?  We  might  say,  in 
general,  that  it  is  owing  to  a  certain  correspondence 
or  mutual  adaptation  between  the  motive  and  the 
disposition,  —  one  to  excite,  and  the  other  to  be 
excited.  But  this  does  not  explain  the  difficulty, 
why  it  is  that  the  same  motive  does  not  have  the 
same  effect  on  all  men,  and  on  the  same  man  at 
all  times.  Therefore,  to  answer  the  question  more 
explicitly,  we  should  say,  that  it  is  the  actual  feel- 
ing or  perception  of  this  correspondence  or  mutual 
adaptation  between  the  motive  and  the  disposition 
to  be  awakened  thereby.  It  is  not  enough  that  the 
quality  exists ;  the  individual  must  feel^  must  per- 
ceive that  it  exists,  or  else  to  him  it  does  not  exist. 
Those  who  perceive  it,  and  attend  to  it,  and  give 
themselves  up  to  it,  are  affected ;  those  who  do  not 
are  not  affected. 

And  now  we  are  prepared  to  take  up  the  third 
question.   Why  is  it,  that  while  one  man  is  alive  to 


156  MOTIVES. 

the  higher  motives  of  human  conduct^  another  is  alive 
only  to  the  lower  motives?  Something  doubtless  is 
attributable  to  difference  of  organization  and  tem- 
perament, but  not  the  whole.  If  it  were,  how  should 
we  be  able  to  account  for  material  and  essential 
changes  in  moral  and  religious  sensibility,  which  the 
same  individual  often  undergoes  ?  In  the  case  of 
repentance,  involving  a  real  change  of  heart,  it  will 
hardly  be  pretended  that  this  alters  a  man's  organ- 
ization or  temperament ;  and  yet  how  entirely  it 
alters  his  sensibility  to  moral  and  religious  motives. 
These  motives  were  always  before  him ;  but  he  did 
not  see  them,  or  at  least  he  did  not  feel  them, 
as  he  does  now.  In  this  respect  he  differs  from 
his  former  self,  just  as  all  good  men  differ  from 
all  bad  men ;  nevertheless,  organically  considered, 
he  is  the  same  man  he  always  has  been.  So  like- 
wise of  acquired  habits,  considered  as  predisposing 
men  to  be  affected  by  certain  motives.  If  we  say, 
that  a  man  is  alive  to  the  highest  motives  merely 
from  his  acquired  habits  and  predispositions,  then 
the  question  arises,  how  it  is  that,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  motives,  these  habits  and  predispositions 
were  acquired  in  the  first  instance ;  and  again,  how 
it  is,  that,  under  the  influence  of  new  and  counter- 
acting motives,  they  are  sometimes  radically  changed. 
In  the  case  of  a  rational,  moral,  and  free  being 
there  must  be  something  which  modifies  and  rules 


MOTIVES.  157 

mere  organization  and  habit ;  and  this  something 
would  seem  to  be  the  power  of  certain  external  in- 
citements or  motives  to  evoke  slumbering  elements 
of  the  soul,  to  bring  out  latent  principles  of  action 
in  the  first  instance,  and  thus  to  give,  as  it  were,  a 
new  pitch  to  the  whole  character.  And,  other  things 
being  equal,  this  power  is  felt  by  the  individual  just 
in  proportion  as  the  incitement  or  motive  is  attended 
to^  —  attention  being  the  means  through  which  it  is 
brought  into  connection  with  the  mind,  and  acts  on 
the  soul. 

There  is  no  exception  to  this  law.  Even  what 
has  just  been  conceded  to  organization  and  predis- 
position, natural  or  acquired,  resolves  itself  at  last 
into  this  law.  Why  is  it  that  motives  have  more 
influence  over  the  mind  in  proportion  as  it  is  in 
any  way  predisposed  to  be  affected  by  them?  The 
chief,  if  not  the  sole  reason,  is,  that  such  a  mind 
gives  them  more  attention  and  thought,  enters  into 
them  more  fully  and  entirely  as  realities,  returns  to 
them  more  frequently,  and  dwells  upon  them  to 
the  exclusion  of  other  things.  It  is  not  that  such 
a  person  is  moved  without  attending,  but  only  that 
he  is  more  sure  to  attend  ;  for  his  heart  is  in  it, 
which  is  the  great  condition  of  earnest  and  un- 
divided attention. 

Hence  it  follows,  that  serious  and  earnest  atten- 
tion   to    the    highest    motives    of   human    conduct 


158  MOTIVES. 

awakens  and  calls  out  the  highest  and  best  affec- 
tions of  the  soul ;  and  again,  it  is  only  by  renewing 
this  attention  from  day  to  day,  that  these  affections 
are  kept  alive  and  rendered  more  and  more  intense. 
In  the  words  of  the  text :  "  While  I  was  musing 
the  fire  burned."  For  this  reason  the  Scriptures 
everywhere  lay  great  stress  on  meditation  and  holy 
contemplation,  on  communing  with  God  and  our 
own  souls,  and  having  our  conversation  in  heaven, 
as  the  conditions  of  "  newness  of  life."  "  Beholding 
as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  we  are  changed 
into  the  same  image  from  glory  to  glory,  as  by  the 
spirit  of  the  Lord." 

If,  then,  we  do  not  feel  the  highest  motives  of 
human  conduct,  it  is  not  because  they  are  not  set 
before  us,  nor  yet  because  we  are  incapable  of 
feeling  them,  but  because  we  do  not  attend  to 
them. 

To  this,  however,  an  objection  will  be  likely  to 
occur  to  most  minds,  which  I  hasten  to  notice. 
It  will  be  said,  that  there  are  those  who  have 
made  the  highest  motives  of  human  conduct,  that 
is,  moral  and  religious  considerations,  not  only  ob- 
jects of  attention,  but  the  study  of  their  whole  lives, 
and  thus  have  become  eminent  philosophers  and 
theologians,  who  nevertheless  do  not  feel  these  mo- 
tives any  more,  if  indeed  they  do  as  much,  as  many 
an  ignorant  and  simple-hearted  Christian  who  never 


MOTIVES.  159 

entered  into  an  inquiry  on  the  subject,  and  never 
had  a  doubt. 

The  fact  is  admitted  ;  but  in  order  to  reconcile 
it  with  what  has  been  advanced,  it  is  only  neces- 
sary to  point  out  an  obvious  distinction  between 
speculation  and  meditation;  between  that  reflection 
which  is  the  act  of  a  questioning  spirit,  and  that 
reflection  which  is  the  act  of  a  believing'  spirit.  It 
is  the  principal  business  of  the  philosopher  and  the- 
ologian to  prove  the  truth  and  reality  of  the  moral 
and  religious  motives ;  but  this  is  to  attend  to  the 
evidence  of  the  motives,  and  not  to  the  motives 
themselves.  How  can  a  man  be  said  to  attend  to 
a  motive,  as  a  motive,  until  he  is  prepared  to  take 
for  granted  its  truth  and  reality?  for  if  it  is  not 
true  and  real,  it  is  not  a  motive  ;  it  does  not  exist 
to  be  the  object  of  his  attention  as  a  motive.  He 
is  only  inquiring  whether  there  is  such  a  motive 
or  not.  Nay,  more  ;  if  he  has  spent  much  time  in 
discussing  the  truth  and  reality  of  the  higher  mo- 
tives, even  though  he  should  at  last  decide  the  ques- 
tion in  the  affirmative,  as  often  as  he  returns  to 
the  subject  the  old  habit  will  be  apt  to  be  revived, 
and  he  will  find  himself  considering,  not  what  these 
motives  are,  but  whether  they  exist.  This  is  the 
penalty,  or  at  least  the  danger,  of  an  inquisitive  and 
speculative  turn  of  mind,  and  accounts  for  the  al- 
leged moral  and  religious  coldness  and  insensibility 


160  MOTIVES. 

of  some  philosophers  and  theologians,  without  making 
it  to  be  an  exception  to  the  law  laid  down  above. 
If  the  simple-hearted  Christian  is  more  alive  to 
moral  and  religious  motives,  it  is  because  these 
motives  are  more  frequently  and  intimately  present 
to  his  soul,  as  realities; — not  perhaps  as  questions, 
but  as  realities.  The  law,  therefore,  holds  good,  as 
before.  A  peculiar  connection  or  correspondence 
subsists  between  certain  motives  and  considerations, 
and  the  dispositions  and  affections  which  they  are 
adapted  to  awaken  and  evoke.  It  is  only  necessary 
for  us  to  give  our  minds  and  hearts  to  these  mo- 
tives and  considerations,  until  we  enter  into  their 
nature,  and  then  that  nature,  the  grace  of  God 
consenting,  will  do  the  rest.  "  While  I  was  musing 
the  fire  burned." 

Taking  this  principle  along  with  us,  we  shall  not 
find  much  difficulty  in  explaining  some  of  the 
greatest  perplexities  of  the  Christian  life. 

In  the  first  place,  it  will  help  us  to  define,  with 
sufficient  distinctness  at  least  for  all  practical  pur- 
poses, the  office  of  free  will.  Whatever  may  be  true 
in  theory,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that,  in  practice,  we 
are  generally  disappointed,  when  we  expect  a  great 
deal  from  man's  self-determining  power.  The  reason 
is,  not  that  this  power  does  not  exist,  but  that  it  is 
not  applied  at  the  right  time,  and  in  the  right 
place.      No  doubt  I  may  say,  it  depends  on  myself 


MOTIVES.  161 

whether  I  see  a  particular  object,  or  not,  because 
it  depends  on  myself  whether  I  open  my  eyes,  and 
look  in  that  direction,  or  not.  But  supposing  me 
to  keep  my  eyes  shut,  or  to  look  in  another  di- 
rection, then  certainly  it  does  not  depend  on  my- 
self whether  I  see  that  object,  or  not.  Just  so  in 
respect  to  the  influence  of  the  higher,  that  is  to 
say,  the  Christian  motives.  I  may  say,  and  say  with 
truth,  that  it  depends  on  myself,  under  God,  whether 
I  feel,  and  am  affected  by,  these  motives,  because  it 
depends  on  myself  whether  I  attend  to  them,  and 
put  myself  in  the  way  of  them,  and  seek  to  enter 
into  their  spirit,  and  bring  them,  as  it  were,  into 
contact  with  my  nature.  But  if  from  any  cause 
I  refuse  or  neglect  to  do  this,  then,  of  course,  I 
shall  not  feel  these  motives,  nor  be  affected  by 
them,  let  me  desire  it  or  will  it  ever  so  much. 
In  the  action  of  any  motive  three  conditions  are 
implied :  first,  the  nature  of  the  motive  ;  secondly, 
our  own  nature  considered  as  adapted  to  be  affected 
thereby  ;  and,  thirdly,  attention  on  our  part,  by  which 
the  motive  and  our  nature  are  brought  together. 
Now  the  first  two  of  these  conditions  are  given 
quantities  in  all  cases :  the  third  is  the  only  one 
which  remains  to  be  determined  ;  and  that  we  may 
either  determine  for  ourselves,  or,  like  many,  drift- 
ing with  the  current  of  events,  we  may  allow  it  to 
be  determined  for  us. 


162  MOTIVES. 

Again ;  the  same  principle  will  help  to  explain 
why  it  is,  that  when  men  become  decidedly  relig- 
ious it  is  often  in  consequence  of  some  startling 
or  impressive  event,  —  the  death  of  a  friend,  a  re- 
markable escape,  a  pungent  discourse,  a  striking 
remark,  a  dream,  a  thought.  It  may  be  said  that 
such  an  occurrence  does  not  add  one  iota  to  the 
number  or  the  strength  of  the  motives  to  a  Chris- 
tian life  which  these  persons  had,  and  which  they 
knew  they  had,  before.  And  this  is  true ;  but  it 
calls  attention  to  those  motives;  and  this,  as  we 
have  seen,  is  all  that  was  wanted.  As  a  general 
rule,  men  are  not  insensible  to  religious  motives 
because  they  are  ignorant  of  them,  or  because  they 
do  not  believe  in  them,  or  because  they  think  them 
of  secondary  importance  ;  but  simply  and  solely  be- 
cause they  do  not  attend  to  them.  Their  minds  are 
taken  up  with  other  things.  And  if  you  ask  again, 
how  it  happens  that  their  minds  are  taken  up  by 
other  things,  though  confessedly  of  less  importance, 
the  answer  is  ready.  Though  these  other  things 
are  confessedly  of  less  importance  on  the  whole, 
and  in  the  long  run,  they  are  nevertheless  much 
more  obvious,  and  more  immediately  pressing.  Com- 
mon and  worldly  motives  are  spread,  if  I  may  so 
express  it,  on  the  outside  of  things  :  they  are  ob- 
truded on  our  notice ;  we  cannot  shut  our  eyes 
upon  them  if  we   would ;   we   can   hardly   help   at- 


MOTIVES.  163 

tending  to  them,  and  attending  to  them  continu- 
ally. On  the  contrary,  spiritual  considerations,  those 
which  address  themselves  peculiarly  to  Christians, 
lie  deeper :  they  are  not  forced  on  our  regards  by 
the  necessities  of  our  physical  condition ;  we  can 
attend  to  them,  or  not,  as  we  please.  Nay,  to 
attend  to  them  as  we  ought,  to  enter  into  their  full 
significancy,  to  make  them  intimately  present  to  our 
souls,  —  in  one  word,  to  make  what  is  unseen  to 
be  real  to  the  eye  of  the  mind,  so  that  it  shall 
affect  us  as  if  it  were  seen  by  the  eye  of  the  body, 
—  this  supposes  a  degree  of  abstraction  from  earthly 
things,  and  an  ascendency  of  reason  or  conscience 
over  sense,  which,  in  the  present  state  of  human 
culture  and  public  morals,  are  hardly  to  be  ex- 
pected in  the  bulk  of  mankind,  unless  their  at- 
tention is  aroused  by  some  startling  event. 

Once  more  ;  the  view  here  taken  of  the  manner 
in  which  men  become  alive  to  the  highest  motives 
will  also  account  satisfactorily  for  local  and  tem- 
porary excitements  in  morals  and  religion.  These 
are  sometimes  referred  to  sympathy  and  imitation, 
and  even  to  causes  less  pure.  Much  of  what  is 
superficial  and  transient  in  them,  and  many  of  the 
attendant  circumstances,  are  doubtless  to  be  ex- 
plained in  this  way  ;  but  not  the  whole.  What  is 
real  and  lasting  in  these  movements  has  its  origin 
in  the  general  attention  to  the  subject  which,  some- 


164  MOTIVES. 

how  or  other,  has  been  awakened.  No  new  motives 
are  discovered  or  invented.  It  is  not  pretended 
that  any  new  motives  are  discovered  or  invented. 
The  selfsame  motives  and  considerations  are  urged 
which  have  been  urged  for  a  thousand  years :  the 
difference  in  the  effect  is  owing  to  the  greater  at- 
tention which  is  paid  to  them ;  and  this  attention 
is  more  likely  to  be  fixed,  earnest,  and  continual, 
from  the  fact  that  the  whole  community  is  attend- 
ing to  the  same  subjects  at  the  same  time. 

Take  as  a  familiar  illustration  of  this  law  the 
Temperance  Reform.  It  is  not  pretended  that  men 
have  found  out  any  new  motives  for  being  tem- 
perate, or  any  new  means  of  resisting  temptations 
to  intemperance.  All  the  topics,  all,  at  least,  which 
are  of  much  real  weight,  are  old  and  trite,  perhaps 
beyond  those  of  any  other  subject  which  can  be 
named.  The  movement,  the  marvel,  the  miracle, 
as  some  are  disposed  to  account  it,  is  to  be  ascribed 
to  the  increased  attention  which  is  given  to  these 
topics  ;  and  what  may  be  termed  the  machinery  of 
the  movement  is  valuable  only  in  proportion  as  it 
has  a  tendency  to  arrest  and  hold  this  attention. 

The  same  is  also  true  of  what  are  called  Revivals 
of  Religion,  affecting  whole  churches  and  whole  com- 
munities. So  far  as  they  may  be  resolved  into 
sympathy,  imitation,  or  nervous  excitability,  they  are 
nothing   in    a   moral   and   religious   point   of  view. 


MOTIVES.  165 

But  it  is  hardly  to  be  presumed  that  meu  can 
meet  together  to  talk  about  religion,  and  go  home 
to  think  about  it,  day  after  day,  that  religion  should 
thus  become  the  one  object  of  interest  in  public 
and  private  for  a  long  time,  and  yet  that  no  minds 
should  be  affected  by  it  deeply  and  permanently. 
Still,  in  this  case,  it  is  not  because  any  new  con- 
siderations are  set  before  them;  the  considerations, 
the  motives,  are  not  new ;  the  interest,  the  attention, 
—  that  only  is  new. 

This,  then,  would  seem  to  be  the  true  theory  of 
motives.  God,  in  his  works  and  Word,  has  set  before 
us  all  reasons,  inducements,  considerations  fitted  to 
call  forth  the  best  parts  of  our  nature,  and  so  to 
lay  the  foundation  of  the  noblest  traits  of  character. 
But  in  order  that  these  reasons,  inducements,  con- 
siderations may  have  any  effect,  they  must  be 
brought  into  contact,  so  to  speak,  with  our  nature ; 
and  this  can  only  be  done  by  our  attending  to 
them,  —  voluntarily,  solemnly,  earnestly;  and  attend- 
ing to  them,  not  in  a  questioning,  but  in  a  believing 
spirit.  It  is  not  enough  that  the  motives  really 
exist :  before  they  can  be  said  to  exist  for  us,  we 
must  believe  them  to  exist.  Nay,  it  is  not  enough 
that  we  believe  them  to  exist,  for  we  are  not 
affected  by  the  simple  fact  that  they  exist,  but  by 
what  they  are  in  their  own  nature  ;  which  is  such 
that  we  cannot  attend  to  it  and  dwell  upon  it  with- 


166  MOTIVES, 

out  feeling  our  own  nature  to  be  touched  and  trans- 
formed.   "  While  I  was  musing  the  fire  burned." 

Let  me  then,  in  concluding,  ask  you  to  revert 
once  more  to  the  plea  so  often  set  up  by  the  un- 
devout,  the  indifferent,  the  worldly-minded  :  —  to  wit, 
that  they  do  not  feel  the  motives  to  virtue  and 
piety  which  good  men  do.  The  fact  is  admitted  ; 
but  wlien  we  come  to  analyze  it,  we  find  that,  in 
most  cases  at  least,  it  turns  out  to  be,  not  an  ex- 
cuse, but  a  part  of  the  wrong.  As  we  have  seen, 
they  do  not  distinguish,  they  do  not  believe,  they 
do  not  feel,  because  they  do  not  attend.  But  atten- 
tion is  pre-eminently  a  voluntary  act,  and  one,  there- 
fore, in  respect  to  which  all  are  pre-eminently  free 
and  responsible.  Undoubtedly  some  men  have  more 
outward  changes  than  others,  —  more  admonitory  and 
startling  providences  to  arouse  attention  and  direct 
it  to  higher  and  more  enduring  objects.  But  these 
things  are  not  indispensable  ;  neither  is  it  in  this 
way  that  the  virtue  of  the  eminently  good  is  usually 
built  up.  It  is  enough  for  the  latter  if  reason  and 
conscience  pronounce  the  course  to  be  fit  and  right ; 
they  do  not  require  to  be  dragooned  into  duty. 
Besides,  who  is  willing  to  say,  or  to  believe,  that 
he  is  always  determined  from  without,  and  never 
from  within.  That  there  are  such  men  I  do  not 
deny,  men  who  practically  disown  and  abdicate  the 
power  to  choose  for  themselves  even  what  they  will 


MOTIVES.  167 

attend  to,  that  is  to  say,  in  what  direction  they 
will  look.  But  who,  I  ask  again,  would  consent  to 
take  his  place  in  such  company,  —  the  seaweed  and 
driftwood  of  society,  collecting  here  or  there  just  as 
the  wind,  the  tide,  or  the  eddy  happens  to  set  ? 
TVe  must  take  care,  and  not  seek  self-justification  in 
what  must  bring  with  it  self-scorn. 

The  way,  then,  is  open.  You  complain  that  you 
do  not  feel  the  higher  motives  of  human  conduct 
as  good  men  do.  Depend  upon  it,  it  is  because 
you  do  not  attend  to  them  as  good  men  do  ;  and 
this  again  is  because  you  do  not  try  to  attend  to 
them  as  good  men  do,  —  I  do  not  mean,  as  matters 
of  speculation,  but  as  matters  of  reality  and  holy 
trust.  The  imutterable  love  of  God,  the  gentleness, 
the  sinlessness,  the  self-sacrifice  of  Jesus,  the  peace 
and  dignity  of  vii'tue,  the  anticipated  bliss  of  heaven, 

—  it  is  not  in  human  nature  that  we  should  be 
practically  familiar  with  such  thoughts  without  being 
touched  and  transformed.  I  do  not  say,  in  a  mo- 
ment; for  the  change  is  not  a  mechanical  wrench, 
but  a  living  process :  the  words  of  the  text  express 
the  law,   "  While  I  was  musing  the   fire   burned," 

—  the  true,  sacred  fire  of  the  earth,  which  kindles 
the  aspirations  of  struggling  virtue,  which  glows  in 
the  heart  of  the  patriot,  the  philanthropist,  and  the 
Christian,  and  which  the  many  waters  of  death  can- 
not quench. 


CHAKACTER. 

WHEREWITH  SHALL  A   YOUNG  MAN   CLEANSE  HIS  WAY  ?    BY   TAKING 
HEED   THERETO  ACCORDING   TO   THY   WORD.  —  Psalm  Cxix.  9. 

In  modern  discourses  on  practical  religion  much 
is  said  about  habits  and  character.  It  is  remarkable 
that  neither  of  these  words  is  to  be  met  with  in 
the  Bible.  But  though  the  words  are  not  there,  the 
sense  is.  The  Bible  has  as  little  as  possible  to  do 
with  abstractions  and  generalities.  What  we  call  a 
man's  habits,  the  Bible  calls  his  ways;  and  what 
we  call  a  man's  character,  the  Bible  calls  his  life. 

The  text,  interpreted  by  the  light  of  this  prin- 
ciple, introduces  the  question.  How  is  a  young 
man,  or  any  man,  to  form  his  habits?  and  also  the 
still  more  important  one,  How  is  he  to  mould 
these  habits  into  character,  so  as  really  to  have  a 
character  and  a   Christian  character. 

What  is  character^  as  that  word  is  here  under- 
stood ? 

Not  surely  reputation;  for  a  man  may  have  a 
reputation,  that  is,  be  distinguished  and  notorious, 


CHARACTER.  169 

for  the  want  of  character.  And  besides,  reputation 
is  not  what  a  man  is  or  has  in  himself,  but  what 
he  is  said  to  be  or  to  have.  By  character,  as  the 
term  is  used  in  this  discourse,  we  mean  a  man's 
actual  state ;  —  not  the  opinion,  true  or  false,  enter- 
tained respecting  him. 

In  what,  then,  I  ask  again,  does  it  consist  ?  Not 
surelj  in  passion,  propensity,  predisposition.  A  man 
who  acts  from  the  feeling  which  happens  to  be 
uppermost  at  the  time  may  have  good  or  bad  im- 
pulses;  but  he  cannot  be  said  to  have  a  character. 
Sometimes,  in  common  parlance,  a  man  of  strong 
natural  aptitudes  and  proclivities  is  called  a  man 
of  strong  character  ;  but  it  is  a  mistake,  or,  more 
properly,  a  misnomer:  the  utmost  that  can  be  said 
of  such  a  person  is,  that  he  has  the  materials  of  a 
strong  character.  It  is  indispensable  to  character 
that  a  man  should  act  from  habit,  and  not  from 
passion.  The  passion  may  give  rise  to  the  habit, 
and  act  through  it ;  still  character  supposes  some- 
thing more  stable  than  passion ;  there  must  be 
habit  to  determine  us,  even  when  the  passion  is  not 
felt. 

Hence  some  have  made  character  to  be  the  sum 
total  of  a  man^s  habits.  Will  this  definition  satisfy 
all  the  conditions  of  tlie  case  ?  I  think  not.  A 
jumble  of  habits  will  no  more  make  a  character 
than  a  jumble   of  passions.      Habits  often  grow  up 


170  CHARACTER. 

blindly  and  indeterminately,  without  a  single  care 
or  thought  on  the  part  of  the  individual  acquiring 
them.  Such  habits  have  no  more  to  do  with  the 
formation  of  character,  properly  so  called,  than  the 
blind  and  indeterminate  action  of  the  passions  them- 
selves. Take,  for  example,  indolent  or  intemperate 
habits,  which  men  do  not  so  much  form  as  fall 
into.  The  truth  is,  such  habits  are  but  passions 
under  another  form,  —  just  as  blind  and  indeter- 
minate, only  more  constant.  And  this  is  not  all. 
A  man  may  be  addicted  to  inconsistent  and  con- 
tradictory habits,  just  as  he  may  be  the  slave  of 
inconsistent  and  contradictory  passions.  Of  course 
in  such  cases  one  set  of  habits  will  exclude  the 
other  for  the  time  being,  but  not  from  taking  its 
turn  as  the  scene  shifts.  Have  you  never  met  with 
a  man  who  seemed  to  act  from  one  set  of  habits 
when  things  went  well  with  him,  and  from  an- 
other set  of  habits  when  things  went  amiss,  —  from 
one  set  of  habits  when  in  society,  and  from  a  totally 
different  set  when  alone  ?  If  then  the  sum  total  of 
a  man's  habits,  any  how  constituted,  is  all  that  is 
wanting  to  character,  you  would  make  such  a  man 
to  have  two,  or  three,  or  four  characters  ;  which  is 
the  very  reverse  of  what  we  mean  by  having  a 
character' ^  —  that  is,  something  by  which  he  is  al- 
ways known. 

Character,   therefore,    in   the   highest    and    truest 


CHARACTER.  171 

sense  of  that  word,  supposes  not  one  thing  only, 
but  two  things.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  made  up 
of  habits;  and,  in  the  second  place,  these  habits 
must  be  shaped  and  moulded  into  a  consistent  and 
harmonious  whole.  The  character  is  more  or  less 
complete  and  perfect  according  to  the  degree  of  its 
consistency,  and  the  entireness  with  which  the  whole 
is  filled  up  and  rounded  out. 

Adopting  this  definition,  it  would  plainly  be  most 
unreasonable  to  expect  a  person  to  begin  life  with 
a  character  already  formed.  He  cannot  do  it.  We 
are  not  born  with  a  character,  good  or  bad,  but 
only  with  a  capacity  to  form  one.  However  widely 
children  differ  from  each  other  in  their  aptitudes 
and  predispositions,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  elements 
of  a  future  character,  they  agree  nevertheless  in 
this,  that  the  character  itself  is  yet  to  be  formed. 
All,  therefore,  that  we  have  a  right  to  require  or 
expect  of  a  young  person  growing  up  into  maturity 
is  this ;  —  that  he  should  look  on  the  formation  of 
an  upright,  honorable.  Christian  character  as  the 
great  business,  the  great  success  of  life. 

How  is  such  a  character  to  be  formed  ? 

This  question  is  not  only  proposed  but  answered 
in  the  text :  "  Wherewith  shall  a  young  man  cleanse 
his  way?  By  taking  heed  thereto  according  to  thy 
Word."  That  is  to  say,  an  upright,  honorable,  and 
Christian    character    is   to    be    formed   by   watching 


172  CHARACTER. 

over  our  habits,  and  bringing  them  into  conformity 
with  the  highest,  that  is,  the  Christian  standard  of 
truth  and.  duty. 

In  the  first  place,  we  must  watch  over  the  habits 
we  are  forming'  from  day  to  day. 

To  inculcations  of  this  nature  it  has  sometimes 
been  objected,  that  the  health  of  the  soul,  as  well 
as  that  of  the  body,  may  be  hurt  by  too  much 
looking  after.  And  there  is  doubtless  a  sense  in 
which  this  is  true.  We  do  not  want  moral  dyspep- 
tics who  are  always  thinking  about  cases  of  con- 
science, any  more  than  physical  dyspeptics  who  are 
always  thinking  about  symptoms  of  indigestion.  To 
weigh  out  everything  one  eats  or  drinks  at  every 
meal  by  grains  and  scruples  would  make  him  an 
invalid,  if  it  did  not  find  him  one.  And  so  in 
morals.  But  all  this  applies  to  a  minute  and  pain- 
ful scrupulosity  as  regards  particular  actions ;  it  has 
nothing  to  do  with  a  general  watchfulness  over  the 
formation  of  habits.  Nay,  one  of  the  principal  rea- 
sons why  we  should  be  careful  to  form  good  habits 
is,  that  having  made  sure  of  them,  there  will  be 
the  less  occasion  to  be  anxious  about  single  actions. 
The  habit  of  doing  right  will  lead  us  to  do  right 
spontaneously.  It  is  as  in  learning  to  speak  a  lan- 
guage. In  the  beginning  we  have  to  think  of  every 
word  we  are  going  to  utter,  and  even  with  this 
precaution  speak  but  poorly  and  hesitatingly.    After 


CHAEACTER.  173 

we  have  thoroughly  mastered  the  language,  that  is, 
have  grown  into  the  habit  of  speaking  it,  the  words 
may  almost  be  said  to  come  of  themselves. 

From  this  it  also  appears  that  in  watching  over 
the  habits  we  are  forming  from  day  to  day,  our 
whole  duty  is  not  done  by  seeing  to  it,  that  no 
bad  ones  are  contracted.  You  will  sometimes 
hear  it  said  of  a  man,  that  he  has  no  bad  habits, 
as  if  this  were  all  that  could  reasonably  be  re- 
quired of  him.  But  not  so.  The  absence  of  bad 
habits  is  but  the  negative  side  of  a  good  character, 
what  it  is  not;  the  positive  side,  in  other  works, 
that  which  makes  it  to  be  what  it  is,  is  found  in 
the  good  habits  which  go  to  make  up  its  substance 
and  form.  It  is  a  great  thing,  I  allow,  not  to  have 
any  bad  habits,  —  more,  I  am  afraid,  than  is  true 
either  of  you  or  of  me,  our  only  hope  being  that 
we  have  some  good  habits  to  weigh  against  the 
bad.  A  man  is  not  good,  merely  because  he  is  not 
bad.  A  great  deal  too  much  is  made  to  depend  on 
the  mere  absence,  real  or  supposed,  of  bad  habits. 
Even  if  we  had  no  bad  habits,  we  should  still  be 
liable  to  bad  and  dangerous  impulses;  and  what  is 
to  hinder  these  from  breaking  out,  from  time  to 
time,  into  acts  of  license  and  crime,  unless  they 
are  restrained  by  one  good  habit  at  least,  that  of 
self-control  ?  And  besides,  what  reliance  can  be 
placed  on   the  best  of  impulses,  considered  merely 


174  CHARACTER. 

as  single,  unregulated  impulses  ?  Take  generosity, 
for  example.  Who  has  yet  to  learn  that  it  is  al- 
most as  likely  to  do  harm  as  good,  until  it  has 
been  trained  to  obey  the  rules  imposed  upon  it  by 
reason  and  experience  ?  that  is  to  say,  until  it  has 
ceased  to  act  as  a  blind  impulse,  and  become  a 
habit  ?  For  the  same  reason,  all  dependence  on  the 
sentiments  of  honor,  or  the  sentiments  of  virtue,  or 
the  sentiments  of  religion  is  worth  but  little,  if 
these  sentiments  are  understood  to  end  with  being 
mere  sentiments  ;  if  they  do  not  grow  into  habits  ; 
if  from  being  a  mere  force  or  impulse  they  do  not 
become  a  direction  and  a  self-imposed  law ;  in 
short,  if  from  being  a  part  of  our  undisciplined 
nature,  they  do  not  become  a  part  of  our  disciplined 
character. 

We  are  further  to  consider,  in  watching  over  the 
formation  of  our  habits,  that  actions,  the  most  trivial 
in  themselves,  if  often  repeated,  become  of  great 
and  decisive  importance.  You  have  been  told  again 
and  again  that  the  morality  of  a  man's  actions 
depends  on  his  motives  ;  and  so  it  does,  if  you  are 
considering  the  morality  of  particular  actions.  But 
if  you  are  considering  the  effect  of  the  whole  on 
his  character,  on  the  man  himself^  on  his  moral  pro- 
gress, you  must  take  into  account  consequences  as 
well  as  motives,  —  not  merely  how  the  action  finds 
him,  but  how  it  leaves  him.     How,  in  other  words. 


CHAKACTER.  175 

are  his  habits  of  thought  and  fcehng  and  conduct 
affected  thereby  ?  And  under  this  point  of  view  it 
is  not  the  great,  but  the  trivial  and  often  repeated 
dehnquency,  from  which  we  have  the  most  to  dread. 
Great  crimes  not  unfrequently  have  the  effect  to 
startle  and  arrest  the  sinner  in  his  downward  course, 
and  bring  him  to  a  pause  ;  at  any  rate,  they  never 
induce  the  habit  from  which  they  flow.  A  man 
does  not  contract  a  habit  of  murder ;  he  contracts 
a  habit  of  malice  and  cruelty,  almost  always  little 
by  little,  and  murder  is  incident  to  this  habit.  It 
is  almost  always  some  venial  form  of  the  offence, 
renewed  day  after  day,  looked  upon  as  indifferent 
or  at  least  as  allowable,  and  therefore  exciting  no 
compunction  or  alarm,  provoking  no  indignation, 
stealing  over  us  under  cover  of  outward  decorum 
and  worldly  respectability,  which  is  most  likely  to 
fix  and  rivet  the  accursed  habit. 

This,  then,  is  the  first  step  towards  the  formation 
of  a  truly  Christian  character,  —  namely,  to  watch 
over  the  influence  which  our  daily  conduct  is  having 
on  our  habits.  Of  course,  we  must  look  to  our 
actions  too,  for  they  express  what  we  are,  but  still 
more  to  our  habits,  for  they  make  us  what  we  are. 
Habits,  of  some  sort  or  other,  every  one  will  have, 
—  habits  of  thinking,  habits  of  feeling,  habits  of 
acting  ;  the  only  question  being,  of  what  sort.  A 
grown-up    savage    is    sometimes   said  to   be   still  in 


176  CHARACTER. 

a  state  of  nature  ;  but  it  is  not  so  :  he  is  just  as 
much  under  the  dominion  of  acquired  habits  as 
you  are.  His  dark  superstitions,  his  stoical  indiffer- 
ence to  pain,  the  point  of  honor  of  liis  tribe,  his 
very  mien  and  gait,  are  not  nature  ;  tliey  are  all 
acquired  habits,  —  as  much  so  as  the  fashions  and 
conventionalities  of  the  most  refined  courts  in  Eu- 
rope. And  so  of  much  that  is  said  against  educa- 
tion, considered  as  forestalling  the  mature  judgment 
of  the  individual.  Certain  zealots  for  what  they 
call  the  free  development  of  mind  object  to  early 
moral  and  religious  training,  because,  forsooth,  they 
would  have  the  child  grow  up  into  life  without  any 
prejudices  or  leanings  one  way  or  another.  But 
have  these  persons  yet  to  learn,  that,  whether  you 
strive  to  prepossess  the  child  in  favor  of  religion 
or  not,  a  thousand  causes  are  at  work  to  prepossess 
him  against  it,  or  what  in  practice  amounts  to 
nearly  the  same  thing,  against  the  conditions  on 
which  it  depends.  The  question  is  not  whether 
something  or  nothing  shall  grow  in  your  fields ;  but 
whether  it  shall  be  corn  or  weeds.  And  not  only 
so.  "  One  being  asked,  what  could  be  the  reason 
why  weeds  grew  more  plentifully  than  corn,  answered, 
Because  the  earth  was  the  motlier  of  weeds,  but  the 
step-mother  of  corn  ;  that  is,  the  one  she  produced 
of  her  own  accord,  the  other  not  till  she  was  com- 
pelled to  it  by  man's  toil  and  industry."  * 

*  Jortin's  Sermons  on  Different  Subjects,  Vol.  III.  p.  6. 


CHARACTEE.  177 

Once  more,  therefore,  let  me  inculcate  the  duty 
incumbent  on  every  one  that  lives,  to  watch  over 
every  change  in  his  habits,  however  slight,  with  an 
untiring  vigilance.  Do  not  suspect  me  of  pressing 
the  doctrine  of  works  to  the  extent  of  excluding 
or  undervaluing  the  doctrine  of  grace.  I  do  not 
forget  that  faith  is  the  spring  of  Christian  holiness, 
and  that  the  Spirit  must  "  help  our  infirmities "  in 
order  to  make  this  faith  effective.  But  these  neces- 
sary and  merciful  provisions,  to  be  of  any  avail  to  us 
personally,  mt^si^  he  accepted  by  us  personally;  they 
must  become  ours  in  the  sense  of  entering  into  our 
proper  life,  that  is,  into  the  inward  and  outward 
habits  in  which  our  proper  life  consists.  What  our 
habits  are,  we  are.  If  they  are  Christian,  we  are 
Christian;  if  they  are  pagan,  we  are  pagan;  —  no 
matter  what  may  be  our  professions,  no  matter  what 
may  be  our  connections,  no  matter  what  may  be 
our  single  and  unconnected  actions.  "Many  will 
say  unto  me  in  that  day,  Lord,  Lord,  have  we  not 
prophesied  in  thy  name  ?  and  in  thy  name  have 
cast  out  devils  ?  and  in  thy  name  have  done  many 
wonderful  works  ?  And  then  will  I  profess  unto 
them,  I  never  knew  you.  Depart  from  me,  ye  that 
work  iniquity."  It  is,  I  repeat  it,  a  question  of 
habits ;  of  habits,  too,  which  are  changing  every 
hour  ;  and  what  makes  the  danger  a  thousand-fold 
greater    is,   that    these    changes    are    often    brought 


178  CHARACTER. 

about  by  influences,  concessions,  delinquencies,  of 
so  little  moment,  singly  considered,  as  to  attract  no 
notice  at  the  time,  yet  by  constant  repetition  giving 
a  radical  and  fatal  bias  to  the  whole  character. 

Depend  upon  it,  we  do  not  muster  our  defences 
at  the  most  exposed  points,  if  it  is  against  the 
commission  of  great  single  crimes.  I  cannot,  I  will 
not  believe,  that  any  here  are  on  the  brink  of  out- 
raging the  laws  or  public  opinion  by  deeds  of  flagrant 
injustice  or  infamy.  But  there  is  not  one  among  us 
all  so  wise,  so  circumspect,  so  generally  well-disposed, 
as  not  to  be  in  danger  of  an  insensible  decay  of  his 
good  habits,  or  an  insensible  strengthening  of  his 
bad  habits,  through  the  frequent  repetition  of  what 
are  looked  upon  as  allowable  indulgences.  What  I 
most  fear  for  you,  is  what  I  most  fear  for  myself. 
It  is,  that  the  treating  of  sacred  things  with  light- 
ness, or  even  with  unconcern,  or  seeing  them  fre- 
quently so  treated  by  others,  will  grow  up  into 
habits  of  irreverence.  It  is  that  a  propensity  to 
color  and  overstate  in  conversation,  merely  to  please, 
or  for  effect,  will  gradually  weaken  and  confuse  our 
abiding  sense  of  the  sacredness  of  truth.  It  is  that 
obstinacy  in  trifles,  or  giving  way  to  slight  impulses 
of  impatience  or  anger,  or  the  indulgence  of  ill- 
humor,  or  the  use  of  sharp  expressions,  will  insen- 
sibly generate  a  temper  at  once  passionate  and  self- 
willed. 


CHARACTER.  179 

Here,  I  insist,  —  precisely  here,  and  not  in  great 
single  temptations  or  in  great  single  crimes,  —  our 
principal  danger  lies.  It  will  not  do  to  say  of  the 
small  sins  in  question,  that  they  are  nothing.  Taken 
singly,  they  may  not  be  much  ;  but  taken  together, 
and  in  their  connection  and  repetition,  they  go  to 
make  up  our  habits,  and  our  habits  are  everything. 
Neither  will  it  do  to  say  of  our  minor  faults,  that 
they  are  trifles  because  the  first  appearance  of  an 
earnest  purpose  will  scatter  them  to  the  winds.  Who- 
ever takes  this  ground  forgets  two  things.  In  the  first 
place,  he  forgets  that  these  minor  faults,  if  repeated 
and  persisted  in,  will  eat  out  the  very  heart  and  life 
of  that  on  which  all  earnestness  of  purpose  depends. 
And,  in  the  second  place,  he  forgets  that  the  ear- 
nest purpose,  even  though  it  should  come,  may  come 
too  late.  While  we  are  sleeping  in  a  false  security, 
the  faults  in  question,  pigmies  though  they  are,  will 
have  time  to  pin  us  down  by  innumerable  threads, 
so  that  when  we  awake,  we  shall  find  ourselves  as 
effectually  bound  as  if  by  strong  cords,  as  if  by 
fetters  of  iron. 

I  have  left  myself  room  but  for  one  more  sug- 
gestion. As  was  intimated  before,  a  jumble  of 
habits,  even  of  good  habits,  will  not  make  a  char- 
acter. These  habits  must  be  so  shaped  and  moulded 
as  to  form  a  consistent  and  harmonious  whole ;  and 
to  be  a  Christian  character,  this  whole  must  express 


180  CHARACTER. 

the  Christian  ideal  of  goodness.  It  is  not  enough 
that  a  yonng  man  takes  heed  to  his  ways  ;  it  must 
be  with  a  view  to  reahze,  as  far  as  human  infirmity 
will  permit,  the  Christian  conception  of  a  perfect 
man.  Every  one  knows  that  the  pagan  type  of 
character  is  a  very  different  thing  from  the  Jewish 
type  of  character ;  and  again,  that  the  Jewish  type 
of  character  is  a  very  different  thing  from  the 
Christian  type  of  character.  In  each  case  the  char- 
acter required  is  made  up,  for  the  most  part,  of 
good  habits ;  but  the  habits  are  combined  in  differ- 
ent proportions,  so  that  the  whole  expresses  a  dif- 
ferent idea,  exhibits  a  different  style,  of  goodness. 

Hence,  as  it  seems  to  me,  one  of  the  first  things 
to  be  attended  to  in  Christian  nurture  is,  to  keep 
before  the  minds  of  the  young,  and  before  the 
minds  of  all,  the  Christian  conception  of  a  perfect 
man.  How  much  better  it  would  be  if  the  primers 
of  the  Church,  instead  of  attempting  to  define  what 
are  called  "  the  mysteries  of  faith,"  would  aim  to  show 
what  are  the  qualities  of  heart  and  life  by  which 
a  Christian  is  known.  Here,  also,  as  I  cannot  help 
thinking,  is  the  true  and  only  practicable  ground 
of  union  among  Christians.  You  cannot  make  men 
agree  in  the  abstract  principles  into  which  the 
Christian  character  should  be  resolved ;  it  is  enough 
if  they  agree  in  the  character  itself,  and  manifest 
that  character  in  their  daily  conduct. 


CHARACTER.  181 

By  taking  this  course,  we  do  but  follow  in  the 
steps  of  our  Lord.  Read  his  discourses ;  read  his 
Sermon  on  the  Mount :  it  is  impossible  not  to  see 
that  his  main  object  is  to  teach  men,  not  how  to 
speculate,  but  how  to  live  ;  to  impress  it  upon  us, 
that  unless  our  righteousness  "  exceeds  the  right- 
eousness of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,"  we  "  cannot 
enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,"  and  to  point 
out  as  precisely  as  may  be  wherein  the  difference 
should  consist.  Need  I  add,  in  conclusion,  that  by 
taking  this  view  of  the  subject  we  impart  a  new 
value  and  a  new  significance  to  the  example  of  our 
Lord.  Not  content  with  giving  the  Christian  char- 
acter in  description,  in  idea,  he  has  given  it  in  fact, 
that  "  we  all,  with  open  face  beholding  as  in  a  glass 
the  glory  of  the  Lord,"  may  be  "  changed  into  the 
same  image  from  glory  to  glory ; "  till  we  all  come, 
in  the  only  practicable  unity  of  the  faith  and  of 
the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God,  "  unto  a  perfect 
man,  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness 
of  Christ.'' 


GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS. 

BRINGING    INTO    CAPTIVITY    EVERT    THOUGHT    TO    THE    OBEDIENCE 

OP  CHRIST.  —  2  Corinthians  x.  5. 

I  SUPPOSE  there  are  few  prerogatives  which  men 
would  be  less  inclined  to  part  with  than  the  abso- 
lute secrecy  and  independence  of  their  thoughts. 
The  tyrant  may  fetter  my  limbs,  and  seal  my  lips ; 
but  there  is  one  thing  which  he  cannot  do  by  the 
utmost  stretch  of  his  power.  He  cannot  hinder  me 
from  thinking  as  I  please ;  neither  can  he  know 
what  I  think,  unless  I  please  to  tell  him. 

But  this  very  fact,  as  it  shows  that  neither  the 
law  nor  public  opinion  can  take  cognizance  of  ou.r 
thoughts,  only  makes  it  the  more  indispensable  that 
we  should  take  the  proper  regulation  and  govern- 
ment of  them  into  our  own  hands.  What  others 
cannot  do  for  us,  or  even  help  us  to  do,  each  one 
should  feel  the  more  bound  to  do  for  himself, — 
taking  care  to  keep  himself  inwardly  as  well  as  out- 
wardly pure,  "  bringmg  into  captivity  every  thought 
to  the  obedience  of  Christ." 


GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS.        183 

Here,  however,  an  objection  is  sometimes  raised, 
which,  if  allowed  to  stand,  must  make  the  inculca- 
tion in  the  text  of  no  effect.  Our  thoughts,  it  is 
said,  succeed  each  other  according  to  fixed  and  un- 
alterable laws,  one  thought  bringing  up  another  in 
a  constant  train  or  current,  over  which  the  will  has 
no  more  power  than  over  the  current  of  blood  in 
our  veins. 

What  there  is  of  plausibility  in  this  error  arises, 
as  is  usual  in  like  cases,  from  a  mixture  of  truth. 
Unquestionably  it  is  not  for  our  will  of  itself,  di- 
rectly and  immediately,  to  determine  what  we  shall 
think  of  at  the  moment ;  neither  can  we,  merely 
by  willing  it,  stop  thinking  altogether.  Thus  much 
is  true  ;  but  it  does  not  follow  that  we  have  no 
control  whatever  over  our  trains  of  thought.  All 
those  who  concede  anything  to  human  freedom 
must  allow,  that  we  are  free  to  make  any  particu- 
lar thought  which  comes  up  in  one  of  these  trains 
an  object  of  special  attention.  "We  can  arrest  it 
and  hold  it  before  the  mind  for  this  purpose ; 
which  will  have  the  effect,  not  indeed  to  stop  our 
thinking,  but  to  give  a  new  direction  to  our  thoughts. 
Obviously,  therefore,  the  turn  wliich  our  thinking 
takes  depends,  for  the  most  part,  on  ourselves. 
Suppose,  for  example,  that  I  am  thinking  of  a  sin- 
ful indulgence  ;  I  am  free  to  think  of  that  side  of 
it  which  invites,  or  of  that  side  of  it  which  repels ; 


184       GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS. 

I  can  think  of  it  as  an  indulgence  merely,  or  as  a 
sinful  indulgence ;  and  the  train  of  thought  to  which 
the  whole  will  give  rise  will  vary  accordingly. 
When  I  say  I  can  do  either  one  or  the  other,  as 
I  choose,  it  is  no  objection  to  reply  that  I  cannot 
do  it  without  some  reason  or  motive.  Certainly 
not.  But  the  question  is,  whether,  having  a  reason 
or  motive  to  give  my  thoughts  a  particular  direc- 
tion, that  is  to  say,  believing  it  to  be  expedient  and 
right,  it  is  not  within  my  power  to  do  so. 

There  is  also  another  way  in  which  a  man's  will 
exerts  an  indirect,  but  yet  an  important  and  de- 
cisive, control  over  the  tenor  of  his  thoughts.  As 
has  been  said,  we  are  competent  at  any  moment 
freely  and  deliberately  to  select  out  of  a  train  of 
thoughts  that  one  to  which  we  will  attend.  But 
we  will  suppose  this  selection  made,  not  freely  and 
deliberately,  but  spontaneously^  or  from  the  impulse 
of  the  moment,  as  is  probably  the  fact  in  most  cases ; 
still  what  we  do  spontaneously,  or  from  the  impulse 
of  the  moment,  depends  on  the  state  of  our  minds, 
and  this  again  depends,  for  the  most  part,  on  what 
we  have  chosen  to  make  it,  or  allow  it  to  become. 
What  we  call  acting  impulsively  or  spontaneously 
originates,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  not  in  our  na- 
ture properly  so  called,  but  in  some  habit  which 
has  been  superinduced ;  —  not  in  our  nature  as  it 
came  from  the  hand  of  God,  but   as  it  has   been 


GOVEKNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS.       185 

developed  and  shaped  by  a  long  series  of  our  own 
voluntary  acts.  Hence  it  is,  for  the  most  part,  that 
different  persons  are  affected  so  very  differently  by 
the  same  objects,  —  what  will  suggest  vicious  and 
impure  thoughts  to  one  having  no  such  effect,  per- 
haps the  opposite  effect,  on  another.  The  same 
book,  for  example,  which  will  do  incalculable  in- 
jury to  a  man  of  bad  principles,  or  of  no  principle, 
may  be  read  with  much  less  danger,  perhaps  with 
perfect  safety,  by  one  whose  innocence  is  guarded, 
at  every  point,  by  discretion,  a  pure  taste,  and  the 
fear  of  God. 

Say  not,  then,  that  it  is  of  the  nature  of  certain 
objects  to  force  on  us  bad  thoughts.  Say,  rather, 
that  the  thoughts  which  any  object  will  suggest  to  us, 
are  those  only  which  we,  from  the  existing  state  of 
our  minds,  are  led  to  associate  with  it ;  and  that  out 
of  these  we  can  select  which  we  will  make  the  object 
of  special  attention ;  and  further,  even  if,  in  making 
this  selection,  we  are  more  determined  by  habit  than 
deliberate  choice,  we  should  remember  that  this 
hahit  is  our  own  work.  Our  abiding  and  predomi- 
nant trains  of  thought  depend,  therefore,  on  some 
act  of  the  will,  either  present  or  past,  or,  at  any  rate, 
on  a  series  of  voluntary  acts  which  have  resulted  in 
our  existing  habits  or  biases  of  character. 

Accordingly  it  will  not  do  to  disown  all  responsibil- 
ity respecting  the   government  of  our  thoughts,  on 


186        GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS. 

the  plea  that  they  are  not  subject  to  our  control.  Let 
our  circumstances  be  what  they  may,  if  we  take  into 
view  our  conduct  from  the  beginning,  it  depends  on 
ourselves  what  shall  be  the  general  complexion  and 
tendency  of  our  thoughts,  almost  as  much  as  it  does 
what  shall  be  the  general  complexion  and  tendency 
of  our  words  and  actions.  Who  does  not  know  that 
a  good  man's  upright  purpose  extends  to  his  motives 
and  his  dispositions ;  that  it  penetrates  and  subdues 
his  inward  as  well  as  his  outward  life  ? 

Thus  far,  the  aim  of  my  reasoning  has  been  to 
prove  that  no  object  is  likely  to  suggest  bad  thoughts, 
except  through  the  concurrence  of  a  weakened  or 
depraved  mind. 

But,  in  a  practical  view  of  the  subject,  this  is  taking 
higher  grovmd  than  is  necessary,  or  perhaps  judicious. 
Let  us  admit  then,  that,  in  the  present  condition  of 
humanity,  there  are  some  things  so  adapted  of  them- 
selves to  excite  bad  thoughts  that  they  will  have 
this  effect  on  the  best  minds.  Still  this  does  not 
hinder  us  from  being  able  to  govern  our  thoughts, 
for  it  by  no  means  follows  that  we  are  obliged  to 
put  ourselves  in  the  way  of  such  things.  The  gov- 
ernment of  our  thoughts  is  as  much  in  our  own 
hands  as  ever ;  only  it  is  on  the  condition  that  we 
do  not  expose  ourselves  to  those  particular  tempta- 
tions. Take,  for  example,  the  influence  of  bad  books. 
A  book  may  be  so  very  bad,  so  thoroughly  and  in- 


GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS.       187 

sidiously  bad,  that  it  cannot  be  read  without  unset- 
tling or  defiling,  more  or  less,  the  best  minds.  But 
the  best  minds  are  not  obliged  to  read  that  book,  or 
to  look  into  it,  or  to  touch  it ;  nay,  will  not  be  dis- 
posed to  do  so,  for  the  very  reason  that  they  are 
the  best  minds.  And  so  of  company,  and  conversa- 
tion, and  scenes.  Undoubtedly  there  are  situations 
into  which  a  good  man  may  thrust  himself,  if  he  will, 
where  his  tone  of  thinking  is  almost  sure  to  be 
lowered,  and  in  the  end  utterly  corrupted,  whether 
he  will  or  no.  In  a  certain  companionship  the  bad 
thoughts  are  forced  upon  him ;  but  the  companion- 
ship itself  is  not  forced  upon  him ;  so  that  he  is 
still  free,  even  as  regards  his  thovights.  He  is  not 
free  to  avoid  the  thoughts,  if  he  does  not  avoid  the 
companionship,  but  he  is  free  to  avoid  both. 

Here,  however,  a  distinction  should  be  made  be- 
tween mere  neighborhood,  mere  proximity,  and  real 
companionship.  Men  are  often  constrained  to  live 
together  in  the  same  vicinity,  and  it  may  be  in  the 
same  house,  or  the  same  room ;  but  companion- 
ship implies  something  more.  It  implies  confidence 
and  concert,  a  certain  community  of  feeling,  of  tastes, 
of  pleasures  ;  and  these  cannot  be  forced.  You  know 
how  it  is  in  schools  and  colleges,  in  a  ship  or  in 
camp :  there  all  live  together,  and  must  live  together, 
but  each  selects  for  his  companions  whom  he  will ; 
and  if  he  chooses  to  select  those  whose  intercourse 


188       GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS. 

tends  by  necessity  to  corrupt  and  debase  his  mind,  it 
is  his  own  fault ;  he  has  incurred  an  evil  which  he 
might  have  avoided  if  he  would  ;  and  therefore  he 
has  nobody  to  blame  but  himself. 

Let  me  add,  that  the  control  which  every  man 
has,  or  might  have,  over  his  thoughts  does  not  consist 
in  prevention  alone.  We  will  now  suppose  that  ob- 
jects suggesting  bad  thoughts  suggest  them  alike 
to  all  minds,  and  again,  that  we  are  necessarily  ex- 
posed to  these  objects  ;  in  other  words,  we  will  sup- 
pose, (though,  as  a  general  rule,  nothing  can  be 
further  from  the  truth,)  that  bad  thoughts  force 
their  way  into  our  minds  unbidden,  no  power  or 
prudence  on  our  part  being  able  to  keep  them  out ; 
—  still,  even  on  this  supposition,  it  must  certainly 
depend  on  ourselves  what  reception  we  give  to  the 
intruders,  and  also  how  long  we  allow  them  to  stay. 
Bad  single  thoughts  may  flit,  from  time  to  time, 
through  the  minds  of  good  men  ;  but  it  is  bad  men 
only  who  encourage,  or  even  tolerate,  their  stay  ;  — 
who  welcome  them ;  who  recall  them ;  who  suffer 
their  imaginations  to  dwell  upon  them  until  the 
moral  taint  they  convey  has  had  time  to  sink  into 
the  very  substance  of  the  soul.  I  do  not  mean  that 
we  can  expel  bad  thoughts  by  no  thoughts,  leaving 
our  minds  entirely  empty.  If  we  would  expel  bad 
thoughts,  it  must  be  by  the  preference  we  give  to 
good  thoughts,  that  is,  by  introducing  good  thoughts 


GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS.       189 

into  their  place.  However  beset  and  haunted  by 
bad  thoughts,  if  a  man  is  sincere  and  in  earnest  in 
his  wish  to  rid  himself  of  them,  a  single  fervent 
ejaculation,  a  single  turning  of  his  whole  soul  to 
God,  will  be  sufficient  to  rebuke  or  scare  them  away. 
The  old  Catholic  superstition,  that  to  pronounce  the 
name  of  Jesus  and  make  the  sign  of  the  cross  would 
put  to  flight  evil  spirits,  was  doubtless  fostered  by 
the  fact,  if  it  did  not  grow  out  of  it,  that  they  were 
found  to  put  to  flight  evil  suggestions,  by  diverting 
our  thoughts  mto  another  channel,  and  lifting  them 
into  a  higher  and  holier  region. 

Away,  then,  with  that  subtile  but  most  inconsistent 
form  of  fatalism,  which  teaches  that  we  can  help  our 
actions,  but  not  our  thoughts.  What  is  to  choose  but 
to  think  ;  and  without  freedom  of  choice  what  free- 
dom of  action  could  there  be  ?  All  freedom,  there- 
fore, begins  and  ends  with  freedom  of  thought.  As 
we  have  seen,  it  depends  on  ourselves,  in  no  small 
measure,  whether  our  minds  are  in  a  state  to  be  ac- 
cessible to  bad  thoughts ;  and  again,  it  depends  on 
ourselves,  for  the  most  part,  whether  we  are  thrown 
in  the  way  of  bad  thoughts  ;  and  finally,  even  when, 
from  any  cause,  bad  thoughts  find  their  way  into  the 
mind,  it  depends  on  ourselves  whether  we  allow  them 
to  stay,  or  drive  them  out.  Within  certain  Hmits, 
therefore,  and  as  far  as  morality  goes,  we  have  as  real 
a  control  over  our  thoughts  as  over  our  actions  or 
our  limbs. 


190        GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS. 

This  being  conceded,  notliing  remains  but  to  con- 
sider some  of  the  reasons  and  motives  which  should 
induce  us  to  exert  this  power  wisely  and  effectually, 
"  bringing  into  captivity  every  thought  to  the  obe- 
dience of  Christ." 

Consider,  in  the  first  place,  how  much  the  thoughts 
have  to  do  in  forming  and  determining  the  whole 
character. 

"  Thought,"  says  an  eloquent  writer,  "  is  the  rud- 
der of  human  action.  As  the  thought  is  wise  or  fopl- 
ish,  good  or  bad,  vicious  or  moral,  the  cause  of  action 
is  noxious  or  salutary.  When,  therefore,  I  am  told  it 
is  but  a  thought^  I  am  told  that  it  is  the  most  impor- 
tant of  all  things."  Tell  me  what  are  a  man's 
thoughts,  and  you  do  not  tell  me  what  he  will  actu- 
ally do,  but  you  tell  me  what  he  would  like  to  do. 
Tell  me  what  are  a  man's  thoughts,  and  you  do  not 
tell  me  what  he  is  in  the  judgment  of  the  world,  for 
the  world  judges  by  the  outward  appearance,  but  you 
tell  me  what  he  is  in  the  judgment  of  God,  who  look- 
eth  on  the  heart.  Thoughts  have  been  called  "  the 
seeds  of  conduct ;  "  but  they  are  more  than  this. 
They  are  seeds  which  have  already  begun  to  germi- 
nate under  ground ;  they  have  begun  to  develop  their 
natural  and  essential  properties,  whether  for  good  or 
for  evil,  though  they  have  not  come  as  yet  to  the 
light  of  day.  In  this  way  the  whole  character  may 
be  covertly  undermined  ;  the  rot  which  began  at  the 


GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS.       191 

core  may  thus  spread  through  the  whole  substance 
before  it  appears  on  the  surface ;  so  that  a  man  may 
not  begin  to  be  suspected,  nay,  may  hardly  begin  to 
suspect  himself,  until  he  is  well-nigh  lost.  Melan- 
choly and  startling  instances  of  this  description  occur, 
from  time  to  time,  in  what  is  regarded  as  the  sud- 
den fall  of  men  who  have  hitherto  enjoyed  the  entire 
confidence  of  the  community.  There  is  no  such 
thing  as  a  sudden  fall  from  virtue,  —  from  a  high  and 
strict  virtue.  These  men  have  been  falling  for 
years  in  the  slow  decay  of  all  upright  purpose  and 
thought. 

It  will  help  us  to  understand  how  this  can  be,  and 
at  the  same  time  strengthen  our  general  conviction 
as  to  the  necessity  of  controlling  our  thoughts,  if  we 
consider,  in  the  second  place,  that  every  sin  begins  in 
a  sin  of  thought ;  that  is  to  say,  in  some  vicious  pur- 
pose or  intention,  and  often  in  meditating,  over  and 
over  again,  what  at  length  we  are  emboldened  to  do. 
The  last  suggestion  is  one  which  I  wish  to  impress 
upon  you.  As  a  general  rule,  it  is  only  after  fre- 
quently revolving  crime  in  their  minds  that  men  find 
the  resolution,  or  rather  the  hardihood,  to  commit  it. 
When  sinful  thoughts  are  spoken  of,  I  believe  it  is 
common  to  suppose  that  a  particular  class  of  sins  are 
referred  to,  —  those,  I  mean,  which  offend  against 
purity.  But  I  make  no  such  limitation  here.  I  be- 
lieve it  to  be  true,  in  general,  of  all  crimes,  that  they 


192       GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS. 

are  rehearsed^  so  to  express  it,  again  and  again,  in 
thought,  before  they  are  brought  out  into  act.  Take, 
for  example,  the  crimes  of  envy,  jealousy,  and  malice ; 
who  does  not  know  how  often  a  man  will  wish  evil 
to  another,  and  imagine  ways  in  which  he  would  lilie 
to  do  him  evil,  before  he  arrives  at  the  point  of 
putting  any  one  of  his  fancied  schemes  in  practice  ? 
The  same  is  also  true  of  acts  of  fraud  and  dishonesty. 
A  man  does  not  belie  at  once,  or  in  a  single  day,  a 
whole  life  of  just  and  honorable  dealing,  but  the 
process  of  liis  demoralization,  in  most  cases  at  least,  is 
something  like  this.  In  his  haste  to  be  rich,  or  more 
likely  still  in  this  perplexity,  if  his  circumstances  be- 
come embarrassed,  a  questionable  expedient  occurs  to 
his  mind,  —  if  he  could  only  bring  himself  to  feel  that 
it  would  be  right,  or  even  allowable  or  safe.  At  first 
he  cannot,  and  the  thought  is  dismissed.  But  that 
thought  returns  again  and  again,  under  the  same  or  a 
like  form,  and  every  time  it  returns  a  growing  famili- 
arity makes  it  seem  less  strange  and  less  repugnant, 
until  he  is  not  only  ready  for  that  step,  but  for  worse 
things. 

The  history  of  sin  in  such  an  individual,  while 
it  affords  ample  and  melancholy  evidence  of  human 
frailty,  is  one  of  the  best  vindications  of  human  na- 
ture itself  against  the  charge  of  a  native  and  intrinsic 
bias  to  evil.  It  shows  that  actual  transgression,  when 
first  proposed^   is  never  in  itself  agreeable   to   our 


GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS.       193 

nature,  but  always  more  or  less  offensive  and  revolt- 
ing. A  strong  instinctive  aversion  must  be  overcome 
before  we  can  go  on  ;  and  this  is  commonly  done,  not 
by  reconciling  us  to  the  crime,  as  such,  but  by  caus- 
ing our  repugnance  to  it  to  be  less  felt  through  the 
effect  of  familiarity.  After  all,  when  the  crime  is 
committed,  it  is  not  for  the  sake  of  the  crime,  but  for 
the  sake  of  what  we  gain  by  the  crime  acting  on  us  as 
a  bribe ;  the  bribe,  however,  does  not  prevail  until  our 
sense  of  repugnance  to  the  crime  has  been  blunted 
by  familiarity.  And  here  it  is  that  the  demoralizing 
influence  of  ill-regulated  thought  appears ;  for  to  ac- 
quire this  familiarity  it  is  not  necessary  that  we 
should  do  anything,  it  is  not  necessary  that  we  should 
stir  a  finger ;  it  is  only  necessary  that  we  should  go 
over  the  mischief  we  are  meditating  in  thought 
(which  we  are  foolish  enough  to  suppose  can  hurt 
nobody),  and  thus  to  rehearse,  as  I  have  said,  again 
and  again,  in  imagination  the  part  we  are  about  to 
play  in  real  life.  Sometimes  the  novice  in  crime 
thinks  himself  ready  to  act  when  he  is  not ;  as  ap- 
pears from  his  hesitancy  and  reluctance  when  the 
moment  for  action  arrives.  If,  however,  this  unex- 
pected recoil  of  his  nature  does  not  induce  him  to 
change  his  purpose  altogether,  he  knows  but  too  well 
how  to  supply  the  defect  in  his  training  for  sin.  If 
we  could  look  into  his  heart,  we  should  find  him  at 
his  accursed  rehearsals   again.     A  few  more  lessons, 

9  M 


194       GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS. 

and  the  blush  and  the  shudder  will  pass  away,  never 
to  return. 

Hence  a  third  consideration  which  should  impress 
us  with  the  necessity  of  governing  our  thoughts  is, 
that  unless  the  restraint  is  laid  there  it  is  not  likely  to 
be  effectual. 

Because  we  maintain  the  sinfulness  of  bad  thoughts, 
it  does  not  follow  that  we  must  push  this  doctrine  to 
the  extent  of  asserting  that  the  thought  of  sin  is  as 
bad  as  the  deed.  Unquestionably  it  is  not.  The 
actual  perpetrator  of  a  crime  is  guilty  of  a  double 
offence,  that  of  desiring  to  do  it,  and  that  of  not  re- 
straining the  desire.  Nay,  more  ;  if  the  evil  thought 
is  suggested  fro7n  ivithout,  and  immediately  disowned 
and  rejected /rom  within,  it  will  depart  and  leave  no 
stain.  Accordingly  there  is  no  occasion  for  the  mor- 
bid conscientiousness  of  those  overscrupulous  persons 
who  live  in  constant  terror  of  falling  into  mortal  sin 
from  the  mere  passage  of  evil  thoughts  through  their 
minds  against  their  will.  The  guilt  of  evil  thoughts 
does  not  consist  in  our  having  them,  but  in  our  in- 
dulging- them,  accepting  them  as  our  own,  making 
them  our  own,  and  allowing  them  to  remain,  or  to 
return.  If,  therefore,  instead  of  doing  this,  we  re- 
press the  thought  as  soon  as  its  true  character^  is 
known,  we  not  only  do  not  fall  from  our  innocence, 
but  we  stand  higher,  or  at  least  more  firmly,  than  we 
did  before,  because  we  have  been  tried,  and  stood  the 


GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS.        195 

trial.  Let  the  check  be  put  upon  the  thought,  and 
we  not  only  prevent  the  sin  from  coming  to  maturity, 
but  we  take  the  character  of  sin  from  its  first  begin- 
nings ;  that  is  to  say,  we  turn  what  would  otherwise 
have  been  a  temptation  yielded  to,  which  is  sin,  into 
a  temptation  overcome,  which  is  virtue. 

Those,  on  the  contrary,  who  indulge  the  thought, 
and  yet  rely  on  their  power  and  resolution  to  prevent 
it  from  ever  passing  into  act,  do  miserably  miscalcu- 
late their  strength.  As  has  been  said,  "  There  can 
be  no  doubt  with  any  reflecting  mind  but  that  the 
propensities  of  our  nature  must  be  subject  to  regula- 
tion ;  but  the  question  is,  where  the  check  ought  to  be 
placed, — upon  the  thought,  or  only  upon  the  action?" 
Paley  finds  an  argument  for  the  truth  of  Christianity  in 
the  decisive  judgment  which  our  Saviour  pronounces 
in  favor  of  the  former  course,  indicating  thereby  his 
superior  wisdom.*  In  proof  of  this  point  he  adduces 
the  testimony,  not  of  theorists,  nor  even  of  moral- 
ists or  theologians,  but  of  practical  men  and  men  of 
the  world,  as  being  well  qualified  by  their  experience 
and  observation  to  form  a  true  opinion  on  the  sub- 
ject. They  all  concur  in  the  view  here  given,  being 
wont  to  say,  that,  in  this  respect  at  least,  if  in  no 
other,  "  our  Saviour  knew  mankind  better  than  Soc- 
rates."    It   is   commonly  objected   to  evil   thoughts, 

*  Evidences  of  Christianity,  Part  II.  Chap.  II. 


196       GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS. 

that  tliey  inflame  our  desires  and  passions,  and  so 
make  them  more  and  more  difficult  of  control :  and 
this  is  true  ;  but  I  find  a  still  more  serious  objec- 
tion in  their  influence  on  the  principle  of  virtue  itself. 
They  corrupt,  weaken,  and  destroy  all  power,  all  dis- 
position, to  control  the  conduct  on  moral  grounds,  the 
only  restraint  left  being  a  regard  for  appearances,  or 
mere  worldly  interest.  Need  I  say,  he  who  puts  his 
virtues  under  the  keeping  of  this  principle  makes  a 
shepherd  of  the  wolf,  who  may  indeed  be  vigilant 
and  active  to  keep  off  other  depredators  from  the 
flock,  but  only  to  devour  them  all  himself. 

After  all,  the  weightiest  consideration  which  should 
lead  us  to  govern  our  thoughts  is  that  which  religion 
suggests  ;  they  are  known  unto  God,  who  will  call 
them  into  judgment  at  the  last  day. 

Something,  doubtless,  would  be  gained,  as  regards 
the  duty  in  question,  if  we  would  merely  give  heed 
to  that  apothegm  of  Pagan  wisdom,  ''  Reverence 
thyself,''''  For  he  who  knowingly  tolerates  in  himself 
what  he  would  be  ashamed  to  have  others  know, 
shows  that  he  has  less  respect  for  his  own  good  opin- 
ion than  for  that  of  the  world.  But  this  is  a  small 
matter  compared  with  indifference  or  disregard  for 
the  good  opinion  of  our  Maker  and  Eternal  Judge. 
We  believe  that  he  is  everywhere  present,  that  his 
eye  penetrates  the  darkest  chambers  of  the  soul,  yet 
still  indulge  in  thoughts  and  imaginations  which  we 


GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS.       197 

are  careful  to  hide  from  our  fellow-men,  from  dread 
of  their  rebuke  or  scorn.  Is  man  more  than  God  ? 
Is  it  in  mockery  that  we  come  before  him  and  say, 
"  Search  me,  0  God,  and  know  my  heart ;  try  me, 
and  know  my  thoughts,  and  see  if  there  be  any  evil 
way  in  me,  and  lead  me  in  the  way  everlasting." 
Consider,  too,  that  all  the  consequences  of  evil 
thoughts  are  not  revealed  in  the  present  life.  We 
have  reason  to  hope  that  some  of  our  guilty  actions^ 
and  some  of  the  temptations  to  our  guilty  actions, 
will  cease  with  the  body  which  is  their  necessary 
occasion  and  instrument ;  but  the  body  is  not  neces- 
sary to  our  evil  thoughts.  The  mind,  the  soul,  will 
go  on  thinking  still,  even  in  its  disembodied  state, 
and  thinking  as  it  did  here,  and  take  its  place  accord- 
ing to  the  spirit  and  tendency  of  its  thoughts.  Is 
not  this  what  the  Scriptures  mean  when  they  say, 
"  Therefore,  judge  nothing  before  the  time,  until 
the  Lord  come,  who  both  will  bring  to  light  the  hid- 
den things  of  darkness,  and  will  make  manifest  the 
counsels  of  the  hearts:  and  then  shall  every  man 
have  praise  of  God." 

Shall  I  be  told  that  throughout  this  discourse  I 
have  been  insisting  on  a  strictness  and  purity  of 
conduct  which  is  beyond  the  reach  of  mortals  ?  Per- 
fection here,  as  elsewhere,  is  so,  I  suppose  ;  but  this 
does  not  absolve  us  from  the  duty  of  making  perfec- 
tion itself  an  object  of  our  aspirations,  and  of  earnest 


198       GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  THOUGHTS. 

and  unremitting  pursuit.  And,  besides,  I  am  not 
speaking  of  what  man  can  do  by  his  unassisted 
strength ;  I  suppose  him  to  be  sustained  by  faith  in 
Christ,  and  the  aids  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  I  suppose  all 
heaven  to  be  on  his  side.  Because  we  find  ourselves 
unequal  to  a  duty,  not  being  Christians,  it  does  not 
follow  that  we  should  still  be  unequal  to  it  if  we 
were  to  become  Christians,  or  better  Christians.  At 
any  rate,  we  have  no  right  to  fall  back  on  the  plea 
of  our  weakness  and  insufficiency,  until  we  have  done 
what  we  can^  —  the  condition  not  only  of  God's  jus- 
tice, but  also  of  his  mercy.  And  who  can  say  that  he 
has  done  all  that  he  can  ?  If,  then,  we  wish  to  pre- 
serve peace  of  mind,  if  we  wish  to  keep  the  sanctuary 
of  the  soul  unprofaned,  if  we  wish  to  prevent  our 
virtues  from,  being  contaminated  in  their  very  source 
and  to  their  very  core,  if  we  wish  to  plant  a  double 
guard  round  the  heart,  out  of  which  are  the  issues 
of  life,  —  let  us  maintain  inviolate  the  purity  of  our 
thoughts,  without  which  there  can  be  no  inno- 
cence, no  security,  no  entrance  into  heaven,  and 
no  heaven  to  enter.  "  Seek  ye  the  Lord  while  he 
may  be  found ;  call  ye  upon  him  while  he  is  near. 
Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way  and  the  unrighteous 
man  his  thoughts,  and  let  him  return  unto  the  Lord, 
and  he  will  liave  mercy  upon  him,  and  to  our  God, 
for  he  will  abundantly  pardon." 


DIFFICULTY,  STRUGGLE,  PROGRESS. 

THOU,  THEREFORE,  ENDURE  HARDNESS,  AS  A  GOOD  SOLDIER  OF 

JESUS  CHRIST.  —  2  Timothy  ii.  3. 

Men  would  be  less  likely  to  complain  of  life  as 
it  is,  if  they  knew,  or  would  consider,  what  are  its 
great  objects.  "  Nothing,"  they  say,  "  which  is  worth 
having  can  be  obtained  without  difficulty  and  effort. 
We  must  labor  for  it,  we  must  struggle  for  it,  or 
else  not  have  it."  And  this  is  true  ;  and  what  is 
more,  it  was  meant  to  be  so.  It  is  not  an  over- 
sight or  an  accident :  God  never  meant  that  things 
should  come  easily ;  he  always  meant  that  they 
should  come  hard  ;  and  they  do  not  come  any 
harder,  in  point  of  fact,  than  he  meant  they  should. 
Difficulties,  struggles,  and  hardships,  toilings,  striv- 
ings, and  buffetings,  —  these  are  not  strewed  through 
human  life  any  more  thickly  than  God  intended 
they  should  be.  And  yet,  I  repeat  it,  in  view  of 
all  this,  men  would  be  much  less  apt,  than  they 
now  are,  to  complain  of  life,  if  they  understood, 
or  would  consider,  the  great  ends  for  which  life  is 


200  DIFFICULTY,    STRUGGLE,    PEOGEESS. 

given.  The  multitude,  practically  at  least,  mistake 
the  means  for  the  end,  and  then  wonder  that  the 
end  should  be  what  it  is ;  and  hence  no  small 
portion  of  the  uneasiness  and  discontent  to  be  met 
with  everywhere  in  the  world,  and  the  consequent 
decay  of  faith  and  zeal. 

To  guard  against  this  error,  we  must  consider  well 
two  important  distinctions,  which,  in  the  eagerness 
and  distractions  of  human  pursuits,  are  very  apt  to 
be  overlooked  or  neglected.  In  the  first  place, 
though  we  very  properly  labor  and  strive  for  this 
object  and  that,  the  great  end  of  life  does  not  con- 
sist in  our  obtaining  these  particular  objects,  but  in 
the  self-improvement  realized  in  the  process  of  ob- 
taining them,  or  of  making  the  attempt.  And, 
secondly,  while  happiness  is  one  legitimate  object 
of  our  existence,  progress  is  another :  so  that  the 
great  end  of  our  being  is  not  answered  in  our  be- 
coming happy  as  we  are;  our  very  capacities  of 
happiness  must  be  enlarged  and  elevated ;  and  in 
this  way  we  are  to  be  fitted  for  a  higher  life. 

These  are  unalterable  conditions  of  the  accom- 
plishment of  the  soul's  destiny.  We  may  shut  our 
eyes  upon  them,  if  we  see  fit,  but  they  will  not  on 
that  account  cease  to  be  unalterable  conditions  of 
the  accomplishment  of  the  soul's  destiny.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  we  take  care  to  study  them  out,  and 
reflect  on  them,  often  and  seriously,  it  can  hardly 


DIFFICULTY,   STEUGGLE,   PROGRESS.  201 

fail  to  do  something  to  reconcile  us  to  the  world  as 
it  is,  to  the  unavoidable  difficulties  with  which  we 
have  to  contend,  and  dispose  us  to  "  endure "  the 
"  hardness "  thus  incurred  in  a  better  and  more 
resolved  spirit,  or,  in  the  words  of  the  text,  "  as  a 
good  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ." 

Let  us  consider,  in  the  first  place,  that,  though 
we  very  properly  labor  and  strive  for  this  object 
and  that,  the  great  end  of  life  does  not  consist  in 
our  obtaining  these  particular  objects,  but  in  the 
self-improvement  realized  in  the  process  of  obtain- 
ing them,  or  in  making  the  attempt. 

If  we  exert  our  faculties  for  the  accomplishment 
of  a  particular  object,  and  succeed,  we  do  not  ac- 
complish one  object  only,  we  accomplish  two  ob- 
jects, a  particular  object  and  a  general  object,  — 
the  particular  object  at  which  we  aim,  and  the  gen- 
eral object  of  improving  ourselves.  This  is  true 
whatever  the  particular  object  may  be,  provided 
only  that  it  is  a  legitimate  object.  It  may  be  the 
simplest  mechanical  process,  still  if  we  go  through 
it  successfully,  we  not  only  go  through  the  process 
in  that  particular  instance,  but  we  improve  our- 
selves^ inasmuch  as  we  acquire  a  greater  facility 
in  going  through  the  same  or  a  similar  process  on 
any  future  occasion.  And  this  secondary  advantage 
is  still  more  apparent  when  the  exertion  called  for 
is    of  a   nature    to    put   in    requisition   the    higher 

9* 


202  DIFFICULTY,   STRUGGLE,   PROGRESS. 

endowments  of  judgment  and  intellect.  If  an  arclii- 
tect  builds  a  house  or  a  ship,  he  not  only  builds 
that  particular  house  or  ship,  but  he  improves  him- 
self generally  as  an  architect ;  that  is,  he  is  better 
able  afterwards  to  build  other  houses  or  other  ships. 
So  likewise  if  a  scholar  acquires  a  language,  or 
masters  a  science,  he  not  only  acquires  that  par- 
ticular language,  or  masters  that  particular  science, 
but  improves  his  own  mind  generally,  that  is,  in- 
creases his  ability  to  acquire  other  languages,  or  to 
master  other  sciences. 

So  far  all  is  plain.  But  these  premises  being 
conceded,  it  follows  necessarily  that  it  is  not  to  the 
ease,  but  to  the  difficulty^  with  which  particular  ob- 
jects are  effected,  that  we  must  look  for  the  further- 
ance of  the  general  object  of  self-improvement.  If  a 
merchant  could  gain  a  fortune  by  asking  for  it,  or 
by  writing  half  a  dozen  letters  or  bills  of  credit,  he 
might  gain  a  fortune,  but  that  would  be  all.  He 
would  not  improve  his  knowledge  or  capacity  for 
business ;  he  would  not  be  a  better  merchant  than 
he  was  before.  And  this  is  the  reason  why  inherited 
property  and  money  got  by  gambling,  lotteries,  or 
speculation  proves  a  curse  as  often  as  a  blessing. 
It  is  because  men  come  by  it  so  easily.  If  they  came 
by  it  with  difficulty,  if  they  were  obliged  to  put  all 
their  faculties  to  the  task  in  order  to  obtain  it,  their 
faculties  themselves  would  be  sharpened  and  in  vigor- 


DIFFICULTY,  STRUGGLE,   PROGHESS.  203 

ated,  their  minds  generally  would  be  strengthened 
and  enlarged,  and  their  heads,  of  course,  would  be 
less  likely  to  be  turned  by  success. 

Or  take  another  example.  Suppose  a  mathema- 
tician to  be  able  to  solve  the  hardest  problems  at  a 
glance,  and  without  any  labor  or  application  of  mind. 
This,  I  allow,  would  make  it  possible  for  him  to  solve 
a  greater  number  of  problems  in  a  given  time  ;  but 
let  him  solve  ever  so  many,  it  would  not  help  him  to 
acquire  what  is  infinitely  more  valuable,  the  power 
and  the  habit  of  close  and  intense  thought.  It  would 
help  him  to  fill  his  mind,  but  it  would  not  help  him 
to  improve  or  strengthen  his  mind.  On  the  contrary, 
he  would  be  in  a  fair  way  of  becoming  what  is  called 
"  a  learned  fool  "  ;  that  is,  one  who  has  the  informa- 
tion of  a  man,  but  the  faculties  of  a  child,  or  one  who 
has  a  great  deal  of  knowledge  without  the  capacity  to 
apply  it  to  any  useful  purpose. 

Hence  the  radical  objection  to  those  modern  de- 
vices in  education,  the  ostensible  object  of  which  is 
to  make  education  easy.  Happily  they  never  do 
what  they  promise  ;  but  suppose  them  to  do  it,  sup- 
pose them  to  turn  study  into  a  pastime,  it  would  only 
be  so  much  the  worse.  The  essential  good  of  study 
consists  in  its  being  hard  work  ;  for  it  is  on  that  con- 
dition only  that  it  will  put  the  faculties  to  the  stretch, 
and  so  bring  them  out  more  fully.  Who  has  yet 
to  learn  that  education,  properly  so  called,  does  not 


20-1  DIFFICULTY,   STEUGGLE,   PROGEESS. 

consist  in  putting  things  into  the  mind,  but,  as  the 
name  implies,  in  bringing  things  out,  —  in  the  de- 
velopment of  the  power  and  habit  of  self-activity, 
self-reliance,  and  self-government ;  and  to  effect  this 
object,  the  faculties  on  which  these  traits  of  character 
depend  must  be  stimulated,  exercised,  and  put  to  the 
stretch.  In  this  case,  though  all  the  information 
should  be  lost,  the  discipline  will  remain. 

Thus  it  appears  that  the  very  difficulties  of  life, 
of  which  we  are  so  apt  to  complain,  are  converted 
into  the  means  of  that  discipline,  that  self-culture 
and  self-improvement,  which  is  the  great  end  of  life. 
The  particular  and  immediate  objects  of  our  pursuit, 
which  are  so  apt  to  engross  our  attention,  such  as 
knowledge  and  wealth,  pleasure  and  fame,  are  not 
ends,  but  means,  —  means  to  the  attainment  of  the 
one  great  end  of  our  being,  the  development  of  the 
latent  energies  of  the  soul ;  and  this  end  they  are 
adapted  to  promote  just  in  proportion  to  the  difficulty 
of  compassing  them  ;  that  is  to  say,  just  in  proportion 
to  the  mental  activity  they  call  forth. 

One  word  now  on  the  second  proposition  before 
stated.  While  happiness  is  one  legitimate  object  of 
our  existence,  progress  is  another :  so  that  the  great 
end  of  our  being  is  not  answered  in  our  becoming 
happy  as  we  are ;  our  very  capacities  of  happiness 
must  be  enlarged  and  elevated. 

To  illustrate  what  I  mean,  take  the  case  of  a  child 


DIFFICULTY,   STRUGGLE,  PROGRESS.  205 

whose  capacities  of  happiness,  as  at  present  developed, 
are  exceedingly  few  and  narrow.  You  would  not  be 
content  with  a  constitution  of  things  looking  no  fur- 
ther than  to  a  gratification  of  the  desires  that  child 
has  already  begun  to  feel.  With  reason  you  expect 
that  other  and  higher  desires  will  be  awakened  in  him 
as  his  nature  is  more  and  more  unfolded,  and  you 
count  on  the  hard  discipline  of  life  as  being  likely  to 
bring  about  this  result.  Could  he  gratify  his  first 
and  lowest  desires  without  pain,  effort,  or  delay, 
there  would  be  danger  of  his  becoming  satisfied  with 
himself  as  he  is.  But  let  these  be  thwarted  in  many 
respects,  or  embarrassed  with  difficulty  and  opposition, 
and  he  is  compelled,  as  it  were,  to  fall  back  on  other 
resources,  which  reveal  to  him,  for  the  first  time,  the 
deeper  and  more  essential  wants  of  the  soul.  Thus 
are  his  very  capacities  of  happiness  enlarged  and 
elevated. 

And  what  is  true  of  childhood  in  respect  to  maturer 
years  is  true  also  of  every  period  of  man's  progress 
in  respect  to  the  further  progress  of  which  he  is  ca- 
pable. Let  all  his  present  desires  be  met  and  satisfied 
without  any  exertion  on  his  part,  let  all  his  present 
capacities  of  happiness  be  filled  to  overflowing  with- 
out any  mixture  of  bitterness  or  mortification,  and 
he  would  be  content  to  remain  as  he  is ;  he  would 
be  content  to  stand  still.  Progress  is  the  child  of 
struggle,   and    struggle   is    the    child    of   difficulty. 


206  DIFFICULTY,   STRUGGLE,   PROGRESS. 

Hence  in  those  countries  where  the  soil  and  climate 
are  so  propitious  as  to  leave  hardly  anything  to  be 
done  by  human  endeavor,  society  is  found  to  advance 
to  a  certain  point,  and  there  stop.  Everything  stag- 
nates, merely  because  man,  under  such  circumstan- 
ces, is  not  compelled  to  labor  by  the  hard  necessities 
of  his  condition,  by  what  we  still  persist  in  calling 
his  hard  lot.  On  the  contrary,  in  those  countries 
where  the  difficulties  of  life  are  the  greatest,  suppos- 
ing them  not  to  be  of  a  nature  to  overwhelm  and 
crush  the  very  thought  of  success,  we  find  that  our 
nature  is  invariably  developed  to  the  best  advantage, 
and  becomes  capable  of  the  highest  degrees  not  only 
of  virtue,  but  of  happiness. 

Whence,  then,  this  disposition  to  repine  at  a  consti- 
tution of  things  which  demands  strenuous  effort ; 
which  makes  it  necessary  for  us  to  put  forth  our 
utmost  strength.  For  what  else  were  we  created  ? 
It  is  not,  as  I  have  said,  an  oversight  or  an  accident 
that  we  are  encompassed  with  difficulty,  that  obstacles 
meet  us  in  every  path,  that  we  are  constrained  to 
"  endure  hardness."  God  meant  it  should  be  so  ; 
and  he  meant  it  not  in  anger,  but  in  mercy.  Dif- 
ficulty, struggle,  progress,  —  such  is  the  law.  In  the 
operation  of  it  many  particular  gratifications  may  be 
intercepted,  but  our  happiness,  on  the  whole,  will  be 
infinitely  enhanced ;  many  of  our  particular  pur- 
poses wiU  be  frustrated,  but  the  great  end  of  our 


DIFFICULTY,   STRUGGLE,   PROGRESS.  207 

being  will  be  secured  ;  our  circumstances  may  not  be 
so  well,  but  we  ourselves  shall  be  better. 

"Thou,  therefore,  endure  hardness,  as  a  good 
soldier  of  Jesus  Christ."  If  I  have  succeeded  in 
making  myself  understood,  there  is  good  reason  for 
obeying  this  injunction  independently  of  the  divine 
command.  "  In  the  sweat  of  thy  face  thou  shalt 
eat  bread  "  was  the  primal  curse  under  which  man 
fell  by  his  disobedience ;  and  we  are  still  born  under 
the  same  necessity.  But  the  paternal  care  and  love 
of  God  are  evinced  more,  perhaps,  in  the  nature  of 
his  curses,  as  they  are  called,  than  in  anything  else : 
when  met,  on  our  part,  in  a  spirit  at  once  just,  re- 
solved, and  resigned,  these  curses  are  converted  into 
blessings.  We  owe  everything  that  is  good  and 
great  and  joyous  in  our  destiny  to  the  difficulties 
which  have  evoked  the  qualities  on  which. all  pro- 
gress depends,  and  all  self-reliance,  and  all  self- 
activity. 

You  remember  that  one  of  the  richest  mines  of 
the  world  was  accidently  discovered  by  a  peasant,  as 
he  was  climbing  slowly  up  a  difficult  steep.  He 
caught  at  a  bush  to  save  himself,  and  steady  his 
steps  ;  the  bush  gave  way,  but  disclosed  at  the  same 
time  the  exhaustless  treasure  which  lay  concealed 
underneath.  And  so  it  is  in  toiling  up  the  difficult 
steeps  of  human  life :  we  shall  probably  catch  at 
many  things  for  support  or  security  which  the  slightest 


208  DIFFICULTY,   STRUGGLE,   PROGRESS. 

straining  will  uproot.  As  they  give  way,  however, 
they  constrain  us  to  fall  back  on  other  resources, 
lay  bare  the  unfailing  energies  of  the  inner  man,  and 
make  the  soul  conscious  of  itself. 

Difficulty,  struggle,  progress,  —  this,  I  repeat  it, 
is  the  law.  By  this  we  conquer;  by  this  it  is  that 
the  spirit  gradually  obtains  ascendency  over  the  flesh  ; 
by  this  it  is  that  the  creatures  of  earth  and  dust 
gradually  begin  a  heaven  for  themselves  here  ;  by 
this  it  is  that  the  slaves  of  ignorance  and  fear  and 
sin  throw  off  the  spirit  of  bondage,  and  aspire  to  be 
children  of  God ;  "  and  if  children,  then  heirs, 
heirs  of  God,  and  joint  heirs  with  Christ ;  if  so  be 
that  we  suffer  with  him  that  we  may  be  glorified 
together." 


SINS   OF   OMISSION. 

FOB  THE  GOOD  THAT  I  WOULD,  I  DO  NOT.  —  RomanS  vii.  19. 

I  DO  not  believe  that  mankind,  as  a  general  rule, 
think  so  well  of  themselves  as  is  commonly  sup- 
posed. They  often  put  on  the  appearance  of  think- 
ing well  of  themselves,  presuming  that  it  is  only  on 
this  condition  they  can  expect  to  be  thought  well 
of  by  others  ;  and  ah.  wish  to  be  thought  well  of 
by  others.  But,  after  all,  I  do  not  think  it  would 
be  easy  to  find  a  man,  unless  of  the  lightest  and 
most  frivolous  character,  who  is  not  humbled  and 
oppressed  at  times  by  a  sense  of  his  unworthiness, 
by  a  sense  of  his  ill-desert  before  conscience  and 
before  God. 

Still,  in  estimating  this  unworthiness,  this  ill-desert, 
there  is  one  class  of  sins,  of  which  few,  if  any,  make 
sufficient  account.  I  mean,  sins  of  omission.  I  do 
not  mean  that  men  in  general  are  disposed  to  deny 
they  are  guilty  of  such  sins.  Almost  every  one, 
the  best  men  among  us,  are  willing  to  confess,  with 
the  Apostle,  that,  oftentimes,  the  good  which   they 


210  SINS   OF   OMISSION. 

would,  they  do  not ;  that  they  have  left  undone 
many  things  which  they  ought  to  have  done.  But 
they  do  not  feel  that  mere  omissions  of  duty  are 
to  be  put  on  the  same  footing  with  transgressions 
of  duty.  They  are  willing  to  confess  these  omis- 
sions, nay,  perhaps  tliey  sincerely  regret  them ;  but 
it  is  with  but  little  of  the  compunction  or  concern 
with  which  they  would  regret  a  positive  crime.  They 
probably  know  and  feel  that  they  have  lost  more  or 
less  by  such  neglects  ;  but  they  are  slow  to  believe 
that  they  have  also  incurred  thereby  a  heavy  amount 
of  guilt,  and,  it  may  be,  a  terrible  retribution. 

For  this  reason,  I  wish  to  speak  at  some  length 
of  sins  of  omission  ;  first,  of  their  nature  as  sins, 
and  then  of  their  punishment. 

And  first,  of  their  nature  as  sins.  Sin  is  often 
defined  as  consisting  in  a  known  opposition  to  the 
will  of  God  ;  but  if  so,  it  follows  of  course  that  the 
sin  is  the  same,  whether  it  consists  in  doing  what 
we  know  is  forbidden,  or  in  not  doing  what  we 
know  is  required,  for  in  either  case  we  knowingly 
oppose  God's  will.  Hence,  also,  there  is  an  incon- 
sistency in  saying  that  sins  of  omission  are  either 
more  or  less  sinful  than  positive  transgressions ; 
strictly  speaking,  they  are  positive  transgressions. 
The  form  of  the  sin  is  negative,  that  is,  it  consists 
in  not  doing ;  but  the  transgression  is  positive  and 
open  ;  the  law  is  actually  and  knowingly  and  posi- 


SmS  OF  OMISSION.  211 

lively  broken.  If  I  violate  the  commandment, 
"  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother,"  I  am  guilty 
of  what  is  called  a  sin  of  omission  ;  but  it  is  just 
as  much  an  open  and  positive  transgression  of  the 
law,  as  if  I  should  violate  the  commandment,  "  Thou 
shalt  not  steal,"  or  "Thou  shalt  not  kill." 

It  is  true,  and  this  perhaps  has  given  some 
countenance  to  the  alleged  distinction,  almost  the 
only  sins  pimished  as  crimes  by  human  laws  are 
sins  of  commission  ;  but  the  reason  of  this  is  two- 
fold. In  the  first  place,  the  paramount  object  of 
human  laws  is,  not  to  enforce  morality,  as  such,  but 
to  secure  social  order ;  which  is  done,  for  the  most 
part,  merely  by  prohibiting  such  actions  as  subvert 
or  disturb  social  order.  And,  in  the  second  place, 
the  virtues  required  of  us  are  seldom  capable  of 
being  so  defined  that  they  can  be  made  to  take 
the  form  of  positive  law.  Thus  the  virtue  of  benev- 
olence makes  it  to  be  the  duty  of  every  one  to  re- 
lieve the  distressed  according  to  his  ability  ;  but  what 
human  law  can  prescribe  beforehand  to  whom,  and 
precisely  how  much,  you  or  I  must  give  in  order  to 
fulfil  this  duty.  Besides,  our  virtues  depend,  in  no 
small  measure,  on  the  inward  part  of  the  action, 
—  on  the  motive  or  intention;  and  motives  and  in- 
tentions are,  for  the  most  part,  beyond  the  reach  of 
human  jurisdiction.  They  must  be  left  to  be  re- 
warded or  punished  by  conscience,  and  by  Him  who 
looketh  on  the  heart. 


212  SINS   OF   OMISSION. 

For  these  reasons,  human  laws  are  content,  for 
the  most  part,  if  they  can  only  restrain  men  from 
the  commission  of  crime :  but  not  so,  morality ; 
above  all,  not  so.  Christian  morality.  In  the  Parable 
of  the  Talents  it  was  no  excuse  in  the  case  of  "  the 
unprofitable  servant,"  that  he  had  not  wasted  or 
misused  his  talent ;  he  was  "  cast  into  outer  dark- 
ness" because  he  had  not  added  to  his  talent,  be- 
cause he  had  not  used  it  aright,  because  he  had 
buried  it  in  the  earth.  A  Christian  is  not  made 
up  of  negative  qualities ;  it  is  not  enough  that  he 
abstains  from  evil,  he  must  do  good :  "  Therefore, 
to  him  that  knoweth  to  do  good,  and  doeth  it  not, 
to  him  it  is  sin."  Even  if  a  man  were  to  keep  the 
Ten  Commandments  ever  so  strictly,  it  would  not 
make  him  a  good  Christian  ;  at  best,  it  would  only 
make  him  a  good  Jew.  The  reason  is  that  that  an- 
cient summary  of  the  moral  law  relates,  for  the  most 
part,  to  what  is  forbidden.  A  man  may  keep  all 
the  Commandments,  yet  not  fulfil  one  of  the  Beati- 
tudes ;  and  in  this  case,  without  undertaking  to  say 
what  he  would  be,  it  is  certain  what  he  would  not 
be  :  he  would  not  be  a  Christian.  A  man  is  not 
a  good  man,  merely  because  he  is  not  a  bad  man  ; 
at  any  rate,  he  is  not  a  Christian.  A  Christian,  I 
cannot  repeat  it  too  often,  is  not  made  up  of  nega- 
tive qualities  ;  he  is  not  a  Christian  by  virtue  of 
what  he  has  not  done,   but  by   virtue   of  what  he 


SINS   OF   OMISSION.  213 

has  done,  not  by  virtue  of  what  he  is  not.,  but  by 
virtue  of  what  he  is.  The  whole  drift  of  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount  is,  to  show  that  the  external  and 
negative  morality  which  satisfied  "  them  of  old  time  " 
would  no  longer  satisfy.  Under  the  Gospel,  it  is 
not  enough  that  we  do  not  hate  our  enemy,  which 
is  negative  morality :  we  must  love  him ;  it  is  not 
enough  that  we  do  not  return  evil  for  evil,  which, 
again,  is  negative  morality :  we  must  "  overcome 
evil  with  good."  The  Christian  must  aiyn  "  to  ful- 
fil all  righteousness."  I  do  not  mean  that  he  is 
likely  to  succeed  in  this  ;  human  infirmity  makes 
it  certain  he  will  not :  still  his  hope  that  his 
frequent  failures  will  be  forgiven  is  founded  on  the 
honesty  and  thoroughness  of  his  purpose  to  leave 
nothing  unattempted  that  may  help  to  make  him 
as  perfect  as  possible  in  the  sight  of  God. 

Looking,  therefore,  at  the  essential  morality  of 
men's  conduct,  it  is  not  for  any  one,  certainly  it  is 
not  for  Christians,  to  make  a  distinction  in  favor 
of  sins  of  omission,  as  if  they  were  venial  offences, 
as  if  they  merely  lessened  a  man's  title  to  reward, 
without  exposing  him  to  blame  or  punishment. 
Whoever  starts  in  life  with  the  notion  that  nothing 
is  absolutely  required  of  him  but  to  abstain  from 
wrong-doing,  forgets  that  he  has  to  answer  for  life 
itself,  which  was  not  given  to  be  filled  up  with 
wicked,  or  even  with  indifferent  or  unprofitable, 
but  with  worthy  deeds. 


214  SINS   OF   OMISSION. 

Thus  much  of  the  sins  of  omission,  considered  as 
sins.  I  am  next  to  speak  of  the  punishment  incurred 
thereby ;  that  is  to  say,  of  the  evils  they  bring  on 
ourselves  and  on  others. 

And  first,  on  ourselves.  If  we  compare  sins  of 
omission  with  sins  of  commission,  I  do  not  deny  that 
the  latter  inflict  the  most  direct  and  the  most  palpable 
harm.  A  single  sin  of  commission,  a  single  crime 
of  passion,  will  sometimes  blast,  in  an  hour,  the  pros- 
pects of  a  whole  life.  The  same  is  also  true  of  the 
crimes  of  intemperance,  of  inordinate  ambition,  of 
dishonesty  ;  —  their  victims  are  everywhere  ;  so  much 
so,  that  when  we  hear  of  a  man's  having  ruined  him- 
self, we  always  presume  that  it  has  been  by  something 
which  he  has  done^  and  not  by  something  which  he 
has  left  undone. 

But,  after  all,  I  suspect  there  is  generally  more 
or  less  of  fallacy  or  illusion  in  such  judgments.  It 
may  be  true,  as  just  intimated,  that  the  self-injury 
caused  by  overt  crime  is  more  immediate  and  more 
conspicuous  than  that  caused  by  culpable  neglect ; 
but  it  does  not  follow  that  it  is  greater  or  more  cer- 
tain in  the  long  run.  Who  will  say  that  the  aggregate 
of  loss,  failure,  and  suffering  occasioned  by  anger  or 
revenge  is  greater  than  that  occasioned  by  indolence  ; 
yet  indolence  is  a  vice  which  consists  in  not  doing :  it 
is  a  sin  of  omission.  A  French  writer  of  great 
note  has  observed  :  "  It  is  a  mistake  to  believe  that 


SINS   OF   OMISSION.  215 

none  but  the  violent  passions,  such  as  ambition  and 
love,  are  able  to  triumph  over  the  other  active  prin- 
ciples. Laziness,  as  languid  as  it  is,  often  gets  the 
mastery  of  them  all ;  overrules  all  the  designs  and 
actions  of  life,  and  insensibly  consumes  and  destroys 
both  passions  and  virtues."  *  Besides,  why  is  it  that 
men  are  so  apt  to  fall  into  sins  of  commission  ?  Is  it 
not  mainly  owing  to  neglect  on  their  part  to  fortify 
themselves  beforehand  against  temptation,  as  they 
might  have  done,  and  ought  to  have  done  ?  Take, 
for  example,  the  sins  of  anger  and  self-indulgence, 
which  do  so  much  to  swell  the  catalogue  of  human 
crimes  ;  who  does  not  know  that  they  happen,  in  most 
cases,  from  neglect  to  cultivate  habits  of  self-control  ? 
But  all  such  neglects  are  sins  of  omission.  Hence  to 
this  class  of  sins  are  to  be  referred  not  merely  the 
loss  and  suffering  which  they  directly  produce,  but 
also  a  large  proportion  of  our  other  sins,  together 
with  the  evils  which  follow  in  their  train,  including 
often  ignominy  and  death.  The  last  man  that  was 
hung  for  murder,  became  a  murderer,  probably,  be- 
cause he  had  neglected  to  cultivate  habits  of  self-con- 
trol and  a  proper  horror  for  the  shedding  of  blood; 
so  that  the  radical  wrong,  even  in  his  case,  was  a 
sin  of  omission. 

There  is   also  another    general  view  to  be   taken 
of  sins  of  omission,  which  will  lead  us  —  at  least  it 

*  One  of  La  Rochefoucauld's  Maxims. 


216  SINS   OF   OMISSION. 

ought  to  lead  us  —  to  attach  more  importance  than  we 
commonly  do  to  the  evils  they  bring  on  ourselves. 
The  highest  duty  of  man,  and  that  which  underlies  all 
his  other  duties,  is  the  duty  of  self-improvement,  or 
moral  progress.  We  are  born  neither  virtuous  nor 
vicious,  neither  righteous  nor  wicked,  but  with  ca- 
pacities to  become  either  one  or  the  other  to  an  un- 
limited degree,  according  as  we  use  or  abuse,  culti- 
vate or  neglect,  the  powers  and  opportunities  put  into 
our  hands.  K^  persons^  and  not  things^  we  are  to  be 
what  we  become  in  consequence  of  what  we  chose 
to  do  or  to  leave  undone.  What  we  were  originally 
made  by  the  Creator,  and  what  is  done  for  us,  day 
by  day,  under  the  forms  of  human  or  Divine  assist- 
ance, are  all  necessary ;  nevertheless  they  result  in 
no  good  to  us  personally,  except  in  so  far  as  they 
result  in  our  actually  making  intellectual  and  moral 
progress.  Moreover,  in  the  existing  constitution  of 
things,  the  symbol  of  this  progress  is  not  that  of  a 
man  floating  passively  on  the  stream,  but  of  one 
struggling  against  it,  and  struggling  for  his  life. 
Let  him  give  over  struggling,  and  he  will  infallibly 
be  carried  down ;  nay,  let  him  intermit  struggling 
for  any  considerable  time,  and  his  progress  will  be 
not  only  arrested,  but  reversed. 

This  being  the  law  of  man's  moral  life,  it  follows,  as 
some  of  the  best  ethical  writers  have  said,  that  the 
surest  gauge  of  the  gravity  of  a  transgression  is  found 


SINS   OF   OMISSION.  217 

in  the  influence  it  has  on  our  moral  progress.  And 
here,  again,  I  do  not  mean  to  deny  that  the  effect 
of  sins  of  commission,  under  this  point  of  view,  is 
always  disastrous,  and  sometimes  fatal.  The  crimes 
of  injustice,  of  sensuality,  of  revenge,  especially  if 
deliberate  and  habitual,  are  sure  to  weaken,  if  they 
do  not  destroy,  our  faith  and  our  moral  and  religious 
sensibility  ;  and  so  are  utterly  subversive  of  *'  growth 
in  grace."  Still  it  may  well  be  doubted  whether 
these  crimes,  in  their  worst  forms,  are  more  likely  to 
hinder  or  obstruct  moral  progress,  than  a  neglect  to 
cultivate  those  principles  and  dispositions,  on  which 
all  progress  depends. 

It  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  character  is 
spontaneous.  I  do  not  mean  to  call  in  question  the 
existence  of  what  are  sometimes  termed  moral  and 
religious  instincts,  as  being  natural  to  all  men  ;  but 
these  instmcts  do  not  become  character  until  moulded 
into  habits.  A  man  may  have  good  or  bad  impulses  ; 
but  it  does  not  follow  that  he  has  a  good  or  bad  char- 
acter, or  any  character,  except  perhaps  that  of  fickle- 
ness and  instability,  which  properly  means  want  of 
character.  There  is  doubtless  a  sense  in  which  it  is 
spontaneous  and  natural  for  men  to  tell  the  truth  ; 
nevertheless  we  do  not  call  a  man  "  a  man  of  truth," 
until,  by  self-discipline,  he  has  acquired  so  confirmed 
a  habit  of  strict  adherence  to  the  truth,  that  his  word 
can  be  relied  on  in  all  cases.     For  the  same  reason, 

10 


218  SINS   OF   OMISSION. 

though  there  is  doubtless  a  sense  m  which  it  is  spon- 
taneous and  natural  for  men  to  pray,  we  do  not  call 
a  man  "  a  man  of  prayer,"  until  by  constant  practice 
prayer  has  become  a  habit  with  him ;  until  he  is  not 
only  surprised  into  it  on  extraordinary  emergencies, 
but  makes  it  a  part  of  the  daily  food  of  his  soul. 
Indeed,  all  the  higher  developments  of  character  — 
integrity,  piety,  self-devotion  —  are  so  far  from  being 
spontaneous,  that  they  can  only  be  expected  as  the 
fruit  of  earnest  discipline,  of  assiduous  and  long-con- 
tinued self-culture.  Accordingly,  if  this  discipline, 
this  self-culture,  is  neglected  (which,  however,  is  but 
a  sin  of  omission),  these  virtues  become  impossible. 
Sins  of  commission  interrupt  us,  and  throw  us  back, 
in  our  progress ;  but  sins  of  omission  make  it  impos- 
sible that  the  progress  should  be  carried  on,  or  even 
so  much  as  begun. 

Again,  in  order  to  estimate  aright  the  self-injury 
which  sins  of  omission  inflict,  it  is  also  necessary  to 
take  into  account  the  bearing  of  these  sins  on  our 
moral  ability,  and  on  our  moral  pleasures  and  satis- 
factions. 

It  is  common  to  say,  that  every  one  can  do  what 
is  right  if  he  will ;  so  that  his  failures  are  to  be 
ascribed,  in  every  particular  instance,  not  to  want  of 
power,  but  to  want  of  intention  or  purpose ;  any 
other  doctrine,  as  many  think,  would  make  God  an 
unrighteous  Governor  and  Judge.     And  this  is  true, 


SINS    OF   OMISSION.  219 

if  nothing  more  is  meant  than  merely  to  affirm,  that 
all  men  are  originally  endowed  with  faculties  equal  to 
their  work,  provided  only   that   these   faculties   are 
unfolded,  trained,  and  applied  as  they  might  be,  and 
ought  to  be,  from  the  beginning.     If,  however,  these 
faculties  have  been  perverted,  stifled,  dwarfed,  by  any 
cause,  — no  matter  whether  by  neglect  or  abuse,  no 
matter  whether  by  sins  of  omission  or  sins  of  com- 
mission, —  it  is  plain  that  in  every  such  instance  the 
individual  must  lack  the  power ^  even   if  he  should 
have  the  will,  to  enter  at  once  on  the  highest  acts  or 
the  highest  enjoyments  of  the  Christian  life.     Why 
shut  our  eyes  on  the  fact,  that  the  world  is  filled  with 
the  morally  infirm  and  impotent  of  this  description  ? 
At  the  same  time,  such  infirmity  or  impotence  is  not 
of  the  nature  of  an  excuse,  because  those  who  suffer 
from  it  have  brought  it  on  themselves,  either  by  what 
they  have  done,  or  by  what  they  have  left  undone. 
When  it  is  said,  that  no  one  should  be  blamed  for 
not  doing  what  is  beyond   his   strength,  we  are  to 
understand  by  his  strength,  in  this  connection,  not 
something  which  he  possesses,  whether  he  will  or  no, 
nor  yet  something  which  is  given  to  him  to  be  ac- 
cepted passively,  but  something  which  is  given  to  him 
to  he  acquired.     Accordingly,  every  man's  duty  is  to 
be  measured,  not  by  what  he  has  actually  made  him- 
self capable  of  doing,  for  he   may  have  abused  or 
neglected   his   powers,  but  by  what  he   might  have 
made  himself  capable  of  doing. 


220  SINS   OF   OMISSION. 

Thus  we  see,  under  another  aspect,  the  wrong 
■which  a  man  does  to  his  own  soul  by  merely  neglect- 
ing his  duty ;  that  is,  by  what  are  called  "  sins  of 
omission."  Sins  of  omission,  as  was  said  before,  ac- 
count for  our  falling  so  frequently  into  sins  of  commis- 
sion ;  but  this  is  not  all ;  they  absolutely  incapacitate 
us,  at  least  for  the  time,  for  many,  and  especially  for 
the  higher  virtues.  Take,  for  example,  a  merely  un- 
spiritual  man,  meaning  thereby  one  who  has  merely 
neglected  to  excite  and  develop  his  spiritual  capaci- 
ties and  aspirations,  who  has  merely  failed,  from  any 
cause,  to  cultivate  the  habit  of  faith  and  of  prayer. 
Now  we  say  of  such  a  person  that  he  is  not  only  guilty 
of  a  sin,  and  that  he  has  failed  to  surround  himself 
with  the  sacred  guards  of  religion  as  a  defence  against 
other  sins,  but  also  that  he  has  left  himself  absolutely 
incapable,  for  the  present,  of  the  crowning  graces  and 
joys  of  the  Christian  life.  He  has  not  taken  the  pre- 
liminary steps.  He  has  not  educated  himself  up  to 
the  possibility  of  the  best  satisfactions  of  a  religious 
experience.  I  do  not  say  that  such  a  man  is  incapa- 
ble of  believing  in  Christianity,  if  nothing  more  is 
meant  by  this  than  what  is  called  an  historical  faith ; 
but  he  is  incapable,  in  the  existing  state  of  his  mind, 
of  that  practical  and  saving  faith  whicli  makes  the 
spiritual  world  present  to  the  imagination  and  con- 
sciousness through  a  living  sympathy  with  divine 
things.     Again,  I  do  not  say  of  such  a  man,  that 


SINS   OF   OMISSION.  221 

he  cannot  pray,  or  that  he  never  prays ;  but  this  I 
say :  he  cannot  pray  as  those  do  with  whom  prayer 
has  become  by  habit  as  the  breath  of  Hfe,  and  who 
feel  and  know  that  they  are  heard  in  heaven. 

You  will  observe  that  I  have  qualified  my  state- 
ments of  this  incapacity  by  the  words,  "  for  the  pres- 
ent," and  "  in  the  existing  state  of  his  mind  ; "  but, 
in  a  practical  view  of  the  subject,  these  qualifications 
are  hardly  necessary.  There  is  a  considerable  por- 
tion of  every  one's  life,  during  which  he  can  hardly 
be  said  to  have  any  character,  good  or  bad ;  that  is, 
his  habits  of  thought  and  feeling  and  action  are 
not  as  yet  determined  and  fixed.  While  the  char- 
acter is  thus  in  process  of  formation,  slight  causes 
may  essentially  modify  what  it  is  to  be ;  but  after 
it  has  been  formed,  the  basis  of  it,  and  the  pervading 
spirit  of  it,  are  seldom  changed.  Hence,  whoever 
neglects  to  do  justice  to  the  spiritual  elements  in  his 
nature,  while  his  character  is  formings  will  be  almost 
sure,  after  his  character  is  formed,  to  go  on  as  he 
has  begun.  With  infrequent  exceptions,  the  more 
noticed  because  rare,  we  may  say  of  men  of  formed 
characters,  "  Once  unspiritual,  always  unspiritual." 
And,  besides,  even  when  an  unspiritual  man  in  after 
life,  from  fear  or  interest,  turns  to  religion,  the  ser- 
vice is  almost  always  a  constrained  service,  mingled 
with  regrets  and  self-upbraidings ;  so  much  so,  that 
should  God  forgive  him  in  view  of  his  sincere  though 


222  SINS   OF   OMISSION. 

late  repentance,  he  will  hardly  be  able  to  forgive 
himself.  The  only  secret  of  a  happy  religious  life, 
is  a  life  religious  from  the  beginning. 

So  true  it  is  that  a  mere  neglect,  a  sin  of  omission 
merely,  in  our  early  days  when  the  character  is  taking 
a  determinate  shape,  may,  and  often  in  fact  does, 
seal  our  fate  for  time  and  for  eternity. 

One  word,  in  conclusion,  on  the  injury  which  our 
own  sins  of  omission  inflict  directly  on  others.  It  is 
not  pretended  that  they  can  be  compared,  in  this 
respect,  with  many  sins  of  commission ;  those,  for 
example,  of  injustice  and  cruelty,  where  the  injury, 
real  or  intended,  which  is  done  to  others,  measures 
the  enormity  of  the  offence.  Even  here,  however,  we 
should  remember,  according  to  what  has  been  said, 
that  injustice  and  cruelty  are  seldom  committed  ex- 
cept in  consequence  of  some  neglect,  —  of  neglect 
to  cultivate  a  spirit  of  moderation  and  self-control, 
and,  above  all,  of  that  spirit  which  the  Gospel  makes 
to  be  the  foundation  and  rule  of  social  duty,  loving 
pur  neighbor  as  ourselves.  Hence  it  follows  that  a 
large  proportion  of  the  positive  wrong  done  to  others, 
as  well  as  of  that  done  to  ourselves,  may  be  traced, 
indirectly  and  remotely,  to  sins  of  omission,  to  early 
neglects. 

Moreover,  in  estimating  what  others  lose  through 
our  sins  of  omission,  it  is  not  enough  to  take  into 
account  their  absolute  loss.     We  are  to  consider  that 


SINS   OF   OMISSION.  223 

they  lose,  in  this  way,  all  that  they  ivould  have  gained, 
if  we  had  been  faithful.  To  apply  this  remark  to  a 
single  case  ;  that  of  giving  faithful  counsel  and  warn- 
ing to  a  friend  in  danger  of  falling  into  sin.  I  have 
no  doubt,  that  persons  in  early  life  are  often  in  that 
critical  condition,  in  which  a  word,  a  look  of  encour- 
agement or  expostulation  is  sufficient  to  determine 
the  question  of  their  whole  lives.  Not  to  give  this 
word,  this  look,  is  a  sin  of  omission  merely  ;  thou- 
sands are  guilty  of  it  without  feeling  much,  if  any, 
compunction ;  and,  in  consequence,  thousands  are 
lost. 

There  is  also  another  injury  which  our  sins  of 
omission  do  to  others,  and  one  which  is  the  more 
to  be  deprecated,  because  it  falls,  for  the  most  part, 
on  those  whom  we  should  be  most  unwilhng  to  harm  ; 
I  mean,  our  best  friends.  It  is  of  the  nature  of 
all  sin  to  involve  the  friends  of  the  sinner,  more  or 
less,  in  the  shame  and  suffering  which  he  brings  on 
himself.  Thus  in  sins  of  commission,  the  drunkard, 
though  he  violates  one  of  those  duties  which  he  is 
said  to  owe  especially  to  himself,  violates  at  the 
same  time  the  duty  which  he  owes  to  others,  in- 
volving in  his  own  disgrace  and  ruin  all  who  cling 
to  him  in  love,  or  lean  on  him  for  support.  The 
same  is  also  true  of  sins  of  omission.  Our  friends 
are  not  satisfied  with  knowing  that  we  are  not 
drunkards,  with  knowing  that  we  are  not  addicted 


224  SINS   OF   OMISSION. 

to  gross  vice  of  any  kind.  Their  just  pride,  their 
affection,  their  partiality,  often  their  own  plans  and 
prospects  in  life,  are  bound  up  with  the  hope  that 
we  shall  distinguish  ourselves,  that  we  shall  possess 
positive  excellences  of  mind  and  character,  that  we 
shall  so  improve  our  opportunities  as  to  fit  our- 
selves for  honorable  if  not  distinguished  places  in 
society.  Whoever  wantonly  disappoints  this  hope, 
fondly  cherished  by  so  many  loving  and  anxious 
hearts,  whoever  disappoints  it,  though  merely  by  in- 
dolence or  remissness  on  his  own  part,  that  is,  by 
sins  of  omission,  by  not  doing  what  he  knows  he 
can  do  and  ought  to  do,  betrays  an  unkindness,  an 
ingratitude,  a  baseness,  which  it  is  hard  to  over- 
state. 

Let  us  learn,  then,  to  regard  mere  neglects,  sins 
of  omission,  in  a  more  serious  light.  And  it  is  the 
more  necessary  that  this  should  be  impressed  on 
all,  because  the  sins  of  which  I  now  speak  are 
those  to  which  good  men,  as  well  as  bad  men,  are 
continually  liable.  They  are  also  sins  which  shock 
no  natural  sentiment,  which  attract  no  considerable 
attention  at  the  time,  which  awaken  no  public  in- 
dignation. Yet  these  sins  prepare  the  way  for  all 
other  sins.  The.  world  is  full  of  folly  and  wicked- 
ness ;  but  the  fountain-head  of  all  folly  and  wicked- 
ness is  found  in  an  indolent,  neglectful,  thought- 
less spirit.    "  For  the  good  that  I  would,  I  do  not." 


SINS   OF   OMISSION.  225 

Let  me  remind  you,  once  more,  of  the  Parable  of 
the  Talents.  It  is  not  necessary  that  you  should 
misapply  or  waste  your  talent ;  if  you  only  bury  it 
in  the  earth,  you  must  expect  the  doom,  "  Cast  ye 
the  unprofitable  servant  into  outer  darkness;  there 
shall  be  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth." 


10* 


NO  HIDING-PLACE  FOR  THE  WICKED. 

BE  SURE  TOUR  SIN  WILL  FIND  YOU  OUT. — Numbers  xxxii.  23. 

Less  is  done  towards  repressing  crime  by  merely 
increasing  the  penalty  than  might,  at  first  thought, 
be  supposed.  The  reason  is,  that  penalties  are  for 
the  detected  alone  ;  but  most  persons  in  deliberating 
on  crime  count  on  escaping  detection.  Hence  the 
importance  of  exposing  the  vanity  of  this  expecta- 
tion. I  think  to  be  able  to  show  that  the  wicked 
in  no  case  have  a  right  to  count  upon  concealment 
as  an  ultimate  ground  of  security  and  peace.  "  Be 
sure  your  sin  will  find  you  out." 

In  cases  of  heinous  crimes  this,  I  suppose,  will 
be  generally  admitted.  When  the  deed  is  of  such 
a  nature  as  to  outrage  human  feeling,  and  incense 
the  community  as  one  man,  it  is  hardly  possible 
that  the  perpetrator  should  escape.  His  guilt  may 
come  to  light  by  what  seems  to  be  the  merest  acci- 
dent, and  hence  it  is  sometimes  thought,  that  his 
being  detected  at  all  is  a  mere  accident :  but  this 
is  a  mistake.    In  such  a  case  there  are  innumerable 


NO  HIDING-PLACE   FOR   THE  WICKED.  22T 

accidents,  as  they  are  called,  any  one  of  which  may 
betray  the  culprit ;  and  where,  in  a  highly  excited 
state  of  the  public  mind,  there  are  innumerable 
accidents,  any  one  of  which  may  betray  the  culprit, 
it  is  not  a  mere  accident,  but  amounts  to  moral 
certainty,  that  some  one  of  them  actually  will.  Thus, 
if  a  man  has  committed  murder,  or  highway  rob- 
bery, you  may  say  it  is  a  mere  chance,  that  he  was 
overheard  plotting  the  crime,  or  tliat  he  was  be- 
trayed by  an  accomplice,  or  that  he  was  seen  lurk- 
ing about  the  spot,  or  that  anything  was  afterwards 
found  about  his  person,  or  his  residence,  leading  to 
his  conviction  :  and  so  of  any  one  of  the  thousand 
possible  ways  of  detection.  But  that  he  should 
actually  be  detected  in  some  one  of  these  thousand 
possible  ways  is  not  a  matter  of  chance,  but  of 
moral  certainty. 

With  regard  to  minor  offences,  which  create  no 
public  alarm,  and  lead  to  no  special  investigations, 
the  offender,  it  is  true,  may  often  go,  for  a  time, 
not  only  unconvicted,  but  unsuspected.  Mark,  how- 
ever, the  issue.  The  secrecy  and  impunity  with 
which  the  deed  is  done  will  infallibly  encourage  and 
embolden  him  to  repeat  it  under  other  circumstan- 
ces, and  with  greater  and  greater  aggravations,  multi- 
plying at  every  step  the  chances  of  discovery,  until 
discovery,  as  in  the  case  before  mentioned,  becomes 
morally  certain.     Felons  have  confessed  on  the  scaf- 


228  NO   HIDING-PLACE  FOR   THE  WICKED. 

fold,  that  they  stood  there  in  consequence  of  the 
misfortune  of  not  having  been  detected  in  their  first 
and  slightest  deviations  from  rectitude.  The  delay 
operated  only  as  a  decoy  of  the  Evil  One.  It  was 
the  patient  waiting  of  the  Tempter,  that  his  victim 
might  become  more  entirely  and  hopelessly  involved, 
before  the  snare  was  sprung. 

But  enough  respecting  crimes  of  which  the  laws 
take  cognizance.  Let  us  pass  to  the  consideration 
of  those  offences  which  are  punished,  for  the  most 
part,  by  loss  of  reputation  or  loss  of  confidence. 

And  here,  again,  we  do  not  suppose  that  every 
particular  act  will  be  detected  or  suspected :  if  it 
were  so,  it  would  do  more  harm  than  good.  Men 
are  sometimes  surprised,  over-persuaded,  or  betrayed 
into  single  acts  which  have  little  or  nothing  to  do 
with  their  real  character  ;  that  is  to  say,  with  their 
habits  of  thought  and  feeling  and  conduct.  Thus, 
from  momentary  inadvertence,  or  misinformation,  or 
mere  physical  depression,  a  man  may  be  guilty  of 
a  single  act  of  meanness,  though  in  his  nature  and 
disposition  the  reverse  of  mean.  And  the  same  is 
also  true  of  single  acts  of  servility,  rudeness,  in- 
iustice,  cruelty,  excess.  Now  we  do  not  say  that 
every  such  act  will  be  reported  and  believed  ;  for 
the  public,  at  least  the  best  part  of  the  pubhc,  is 
slow  to  credit  rumors  which  are  contradicted,  or 
seem  to   be   contradicted,  by  the   whole   tenor  of  a 


NO  HIDING-PLACE   FOR   THE   WICKED.  229 

man's  life.  And  this  is  well.  No  good  would  come 
from  the  occasional  lapses  of  worthy  men  being  in 
everybody's  mouth.  It  is  not  necessary  as  a  warn- 
ing to  beware  of  their  society,  for  there  is  no  danger 
in  the  society  of  such  men ;  and,  besides,  it  would 
lead  to  substantial  injustice,  because  it  would  lead 
to  charges  or  suspicions  implicating  the  whole  char- 
acter of  men  whose  character  is  in  the  main  sound. 

No  doubt  one  of  the  consequences  is,  that  while 
bad  men  often  pass  for  being  worse  than  they  really 
are,  good  men  quite  as  often  pass  for  being  better, 
or  at  any  rate  for  being  more  faultless  or  immacu- 
late than  they  really  are ;  —  a  remark  which  is  es- 
pecially applicable  to  the  great  names  of  history, 
where  only  the  leading  and  characteristic  traits 
are  given.  But  this,  too,  is  wisely  ordered,  as  it 
helps  to  keep  up  the  standard  of  virtue ;  —  not 
only  of  that  virtue  which  has  been,  but  also  of 
that  which  is  to  be.  Hence  the  repugnance  so  gen- 
erally and  so  properly  felt  at  the  officiousness  of 
those  who  seek  to  bring  to  light  the  infirmities  and 
inconsistencies  of  really  great  and  good  men,  now 
no  more  ;  especially  when  the  reputation  and  mem- 
ory of  these  men  have  come  to  be  regarded  as  part 
of  the  moral  wealth,  as  well  as  of  the  just  pride, 
of  their  country. 

Let  it  be,  then,  that  single  acts  often  are,  and  of 
right   ought   to   be,   buried   in    oblivion,    especially 


230  NO  HIDING-PLACE   FOR   THE   WICKED. 

when  they  do  not  represent  the  real  character  :  but 
not  so,  with  the  character  itself;  —  if  that  be  bad,  "  be 
sure  your  sin  will  find  you  out."  The  scoffer,  the 
intriguer,  the  sharper,  the  libertine,  —  are  they  not 
known  ?  I  do  not  mean,  every  particular  offence 
they  have  committed,  but  what  sort  of  men  they 
are.  Of  course,  the  usages  of  what  is  called  good 
society  will  not  allow  us  to  tell  them  so  to  their 
faces :  nay  more,  these  usages  often  lead  us,  far 
beyond  what  is  necessary  or  right,  to  pay  an  out- 
ward respect  to  persons  for  whom  no  inward  re- 
spect is  felt.  But  listen  to  men's  speeches  in  their 
places  of  business,  or  in  social  intercourse,  or  in 
the  family  circle,  and  you  will  find  that  they  are 
not  quite  so  regardless  of  moral  distinctions,  that 
they  are  not  quite  so  much  the  dupes  of  hollow 
pretension,  even  when  upheld  by  wealth  and  influ- 
ence and  show,  as  might  at  first  sight  appear. 

Instances  in  which  individuals  have  succeeded  for 
any  length  of  time  in  hiding  their  true  character  from 
the  world  are  much  more  rare  than  is  commonly 
thought.  Take,  for  example,  the  vices  of  dissipation 
and  excess,  —  how  almost  invariably  do  they  betray 
themselves  in  the  looks,  the  gait,  and  the  decaying 
health,  as  well  as  in  the  wasted  fortunes,  of  their 
victim  !  The  mark  is  upon  him,  beyond  the  power 
of  cosmetics,  or  grace  of  manners,  or  social  position, 
to  conceal.      And   even   in   respect  to  the  vices  of 


NO  HIDING-PLACE  FOR   THE   WICKED.  231 

craft  and  dissimulation,  —  who  does  not  know  that 
it  is  of  the  nature  of  the  plausibiHty  and  address 
which  these  imply  to  awaken  distrust?  so  that, 
though  a  mist  may  thus  be  thrown  around  the 
character  which  will  prevent  anything  from  being 
distinctly  seen,  it  will  only  be  that  everything  may 
be  suspected.  I  do  not  say,  you  will  observe,  that 
every  bad  action  of  such  a  man  will  come  to  light, 
but  only  that  his  leading  propensities  will ;  and 
after  this,  that  is,  after  his  neighbors  have  begun 
to  look  upon  him  as  addicted  to  craft  and  dissimu- 
lation, depend  upon  it,  for  one  bad  action  which 
he  commits  without  being  suspected,  he  will  be  sus- 
pected of  twenty  of  which  he  is  wholly  innocent. 

It  will  be  objected,  perhaps,  that  I  have  not  allowed 
enough  for  the  wonderful  abilities  of  bad  men,  by 
which  they  are  able  to  elude  or  baffle  discovery.  Let 
me  begin  my  reply  to  this  remark  by  protesting  gen- 
erally against  that  senseless  cant,  which  would  make 
every  knave  a  man  of  talents,  and  talk  about  there 
being  more  ingenuity  and  mother  wit  in  prisons  than 
in  colleges.  Undoubtedly  here  and  there  an  indi- 
vidual may  be  found,  among  the  self-abandoned,  of 
more  than  ordinary  native  power,  who,  in  different 
circumstances,  and  under  a  different  training,  might 
have  made  himself  a  useful,  and  perhaps  a  distm- 
guished  member  of  society.  But,  even  in  such  cases, 
it  is  of  the  nature  of  conscious  guilt  to  contract  and 


232  NO  HIDING-PLACE   FOR   THE   WICKED. 

COW  the  most  gifted  mind  ;  under  the  influence  of 
which  native  sagacity  degenerates  into  a  vile  cunning, 
that  is  proverbial  for  taking  narrow  views,  and  mis- 
calculating  remote  consequences,  and  so,  in  the  end, 
circumventing  itself. 

Of  a  piece  with  this  cant  about  the  wonderful  abil- 
ities of  bad  men  is  the  cant  about  their  honor,  —  the 
honor,  which,  according  to  the  proverb,  is  found 
among  thieves,  enabling  them  to  trust  each  other  with 
safety.  Formerly,  I  suppose,  there  was  more  of  this 
than  there  is  now,  or  is  likely  to  be  again.  Formerly 
superstition,  though  it  did  not  keep  bad  men  true 
to  morality  in  general,  often  had  the  effect  to  keep 
them  true  to  dark  and  mysterious  pledges  entered 
into  among  themselves.  But  superstition,  among 
such  persons,  is  now  everywhere  giving  place  to  total 
infidelity,  to  a  blank  atheism,  and  this  is  destroying 
the  last  hold  ^hich  the  bad  have  on  each  other. 

Under  these  circumstances,  I  might  ask  again  for 
evidence  of  the  caution  or  sagacity  of  bad  men,  of 
which  so  much  is  said,  seeing  that  they  are  so  ready 
to  confide  in  others  whom  they  must  know  to  be  as 
bad  as  themselves.  Nay,  on  any  principle,  it  would 
be  difiicult  to  account  for  such  recklessness,  if  we  did 
not  know  that  daring  outrages  generally  suppose  and 
require  an  extended  conspiracy ;  that  there  are  few 
vices  which  a  man  can  commit  absolutely  alone  ;  and 
that,  even  in  respect  to  these,  there  is  a  dreariness 


NO   HIDING-PLACE   FOK   THE   WICKED.  233 

in  crime  which  craves  companionship  at  any  risk. 
Explain  the  fact,  however,  as  you  will,  or  leave  it 
unexplained,  it  cannot  fail  to  multiply  at  every  step 
the  chances,  that  is  to  say,  the  antecedent  probabil- 
ities, of  exposure  and  public  shame.  "  Be  sure  your 
sin  will  find  you  out." 

"  Curse  not  the  king,"  says  the  Preacher,  "  no, 
not  in  thy  thought ;  and  curse  not  the  rich  in  thy 
bed-chamber ;  for  a  bird  of  the  air  shall  carry  the 
voice,  and  that  which  hath  wings  shall  tell  the  mat- 
ter." The  ways  in  which  crime  has  been  brought 
to  light  have  been  so  mysterious,  so  inexplicable, 
as  to  afford  to  the  popular  mind,  in  all  ages,  the  most 
convincing  proof  that  an  overruling  Providence  occa- 
sionally interposes  in  the  affairs  of  men.  This  is 
true  not  only  of  the  crimes  which  are  punished  judi- 
cially, but  also  of  those  which  are  punished  by  the 
loss  of  confidence,  the  loss  of  friendship,  or  the  more 
terrible  reprisals  of  public  scorn  and  indignation. 
Everybody  is  known.  The  professed  thieves  and 
rogues  of  England  make  it  matter  of  banter  that,  by 
a  mathematical  calculation  of  chances,  they  can  tell 
beforehand,  within  the  fraction  of  a  year,  how  long 
they  are  likely  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  the  police. 
Sooner  or  later  everybody  is  known,  —  not  only  the 
thief,  the  robber,  the  murderer,  but  the  rogue  in  a 
small  way,  the  hypocritical  pretender  to  religion,  the 
charlatan  in  science,  the  gamester,  the  libertine,  the 


234  NO   HIDING-PLACE   FOR   THE  WICKED. 

swindler  in  genteel  life,  —  sooner  or  later  all  are 
known.  Indeed,  so  various  and  subtile  are  the  means 
of  self-delusion  and  self-mystification,  I  do  not  think 
I  go  too  far  when  I  say,  that  in  many  cases,  perhaps 
in  most  cases,  a  man  is  sooner  found  out  by  his 
neighbors  than  by  himself.  This  remark  applies  to 
the  young  especially,  who,  from  want  of  experience, 
do  not  know  how  far  they  can  go  in  vicious  indul- 
gences before  a  character  is  formed,  and  who  there- 
fore think  but  lightly  of  what  they  have  done  thus 
far,  as  implying  nothing  worse  than  levity  or  indis- 
cretion on  their  part,  while  their  friends,  who  under- 
stand human  nature  better,  are  mourning  over  them 
as  wellnigh  lost. 

But  I  have  insisted  on  the  notoriety  of  crime  fur- 
ther than  my  text  requires  :  "  Be  sure  your  sin  will 
find  you  out,"  even  if  the  world  does  not.  Suppose 
the  sin  locked  up  in  the  sinner's  breast,  and  suppose, 
moreover,  that  he  feels  no  proper  compunction  for 
it,  it  does  not  follow  that  he  feels  no  inquietude,  no 
anxiety.  The  freedom,  the  confidence,  the  peace,  the 
self-respect  of  conscious  integrity  are  gone  when 
the  integrity  itself  is  gone.  Mere  reputation,  whether 
well  or  ill-founded,  may  win  applause,  it  is  true  ;  but 
applause  is  not  likely  to  give  much  inward  satisfac- 
tion to  one  who  is  conscious  that  it  is  bestowed 
through  ignorance  or  mistake,  and  that  it  would  be 
changed  into  scorn  if  the  truth  were  known.     And 


NO   fflDING-PLACE   FOR   THE   WICKED.  285 

then  there  is  the  unceasing  apprehension  that  the 
truth  will  be  known,  —  a  nervous  uneasiness  about 
the  future,  an  anxious  looking  into  men's  faces  to  see 
whether  they  have  not  begun  to  suspect  us,  an  in- 
genuity of  self-torture  which  construes  the  slightest 
coincidence  into  evidence  that  the  secret  is  out.  So 
keenly  is  this  sometimes  felt,  even  in  matters  involv- 
ing only  the  loss  of  property  and  social  position,  that 
persons  who  have  contrived  to  conceal  their  failing 
circumstances  from  the  world  for  years,  have  after- 
wards confessed  that  they  never  had  a  moment's 
peace  until  their  real  condition  was  known  ;  in  other 
words,  that  the  dreaded  discovery  was  a  means  of 
relieving  their  minds  of  a  burden  which  had  become 
intolerable.  And  so,  of  crime.  Felons  have  borne 
about  the  secret  of  their  guilt,  until  they  could  bear 
it  no  longer,  and  then  have  informed  against  them- 
selves, and  surrendered  themselves  up  to  justice, 
under  the  maddening  conviction  that  the  hell  of 
reality  could  not  be  worse  than  the  hell  of  suspense. 
I  will  now  go  one  step  further,  and  suppose  the 
sin  not  only  unknown  to  the  public,  but  unacknowl- 
edged and  ususpected  by  the  sinner  himself.  This 
may  sometimes  happen  from  the  influence  of  custom 
or  fashion  or  a  bad  education  in  making  men  insen- 
sible to  moral  distinctions  ;  especially  where  the  sin 
consists  not  so  much  in  what  we  have  done,  as  in 
what  we  have  left  undone.     Even  in  this  case,  how- 


236  NO   HIDING-PLACE   FOR   THE   WICKED. 

ever,  "  be  sure  your  sin  will  find  you  out "  ;  for 
its  effects  on  your  progress  and  happiness,  and  its 
consequences  generally  in  the  present  life  and  the 
life  to  come,  will  still  follow,  whether  you  trace 
them  or  not  to  their  true  cause.  Thousands,  for 
example,  lament  the  want  of  a  devout  spirit,  as- 
cribing it  to  constitutional  defects,  or  the  necessities 
of  their  condition,  when,  in  fact,  it  is  mostly,  if  not 
wholly,  the  just  penalty  of  an  habitual  and  voluntary 
neglect  of  the  means  of  religion.  Others,  again,  are 
cursed,  they  know  not  why,  with  a  sceptical  turn  of 
mind,  or  with  a  misanthropic  disposition,  or  with 
sordid  or  depraved  tastes,  which  make  them  incapa- 
ble, for  the  time,  of  seeing  or  enjoying  the  highest 
truth  and  the  highest  good.  If  they  would  look  a 
little  more  closely  and  faithfully  into  their  own  con- 
duct, and  into  the  laws  of  the  human  constitution, 
they  would  find,  at  least  as  a  general  rule,  that  they 
are  but  abiding  the  penalty,  the  just  and  inevitable 
doom  which  follows,  whether  they  know  it  or  not, 
the  indulgence  of  a  cavilling  spirit,  or  low  desires, 
or  the  mere  neglect  to  cultivate  and  cherish  the  so- 
cial virtues.  Their  sin  has  found  them  out,  though 
they  have  not  found  out  their  sin. 

Those,  therefore,  who  do  not  find  out  the  sin  from 
itself,  will  be  likely  to  find  it  out  sooner  or  later  from 
its  consequences,  and  see  its  connection  with  these 
consequences,   and   awake   at   length    to    their   true 


NO   HIDING-PLACE   FOR   THE   WICKED.  237 

moral  condition.  Remorse  does  not  depend  on  the 
fact  of  our  degradation,  nor  on  our  sense  of  this  fact, 
but  on  our  sense  of  the  manner  in  which  it  has  been 
incurred.  We  feel  that  we  have  brought  it  on  our- 
selves. We  feel  that  we  might  have  done  differently. 
We  feel  that  we  have  taken  the  sovereign  gifts  of  rea- 
son and  freedom,  and  made  one  the  pander,  and  the 
other  the  slave  of  our  passions  and  lusts.  Hence  our 
abasement  and  anguish  under  the  impending  decree 
of  Eternal  Justice.  And  this  remorse,  —  exult  not 
in  the  thought  that  you  can  stifle  or  dissipate  it  for 
a  while.  It  is  the  madness  of  one  who  would  drug 
himself  with  opiates  in  the  first  stages  of  a  fever  ;  it  is 
allowing  the  fire  to  burn  on,  which  is  burning  into 
the  very  heart  of  your  life  and  peace.  And  all 
such  efforts  must  fail  at  last.  History  abounds  with 
instances  of  bold  bad  men,  whom  a  self-accusing 
spirit  has  overtaken  at  last,  even  in  this  world,  and 
smitten  them  with  sudden  and  unimaginable  terrors. 
But  suppose  them  to  die,  untouched  and  unreclaimed, 
it  will  not  be  through  any  incapacity  or  insensibility 
of  the  soul  itself ;  but  through  the  power  of  worldly 
objects  and  pursuits  to  blind,  distract,  or  lull  the 
soul.  At  death  all  these  will  pass  away,  and  the 
soul  will  be  left  as  it  is,  naked  and  defenceless  in 
the  hands  of  an  avenging  conscience  and  an  aveng- 
ing God. 

This,  then,  is  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter. 


288  NO  HIDING-PLACE   FOR   THE   WICKED. 

Let  no  one  count  upon  concealment  as  an  ultimate 
ground  of  security  and  peace.  If  addicted  to  sin, 
by  no  cunning  or  address  can  we  hope  to  elude  the 
eye  even  of  man  for  any  length  of  time ;  much  less 
that  of  God,  or  the  scourges  of  a  self-upbraiding 
mind,  or  those  dark  and  shapeless  forms  of  woe 
which  menace  us  from  the  eternal  world,  and  await 
us  there.  How  truly  and  solemnly  do  the  Scrip- 
tures say  of  a  wicked  man,  that  he  "  walketh  upon 
a  snare."  "  He  that  walketh  uprightly  walketh 
surely :  but  he  that  perverteth  his  ways  shall  be 
known." 


THOU   SHALT   SAY,  NO. 

THOU  SHALT  SAT,  NO.  —  Judges  iv.  20. 

Here  is  one  of  the  shortest  words  in  our  language ; 
yet  there  is  none  which  persons  of  an  easy  and  yield- 
ing disposition  find  it  so  difficult  to  pronounce.  To 
say  it,  however,  is  one  of  the  first  lessons  which  we 
have  occasion  to  learn,  and  one  of  the  most  frequent 
we  are  called  upon  to  practise.  You  can  hardly 
mention  a  cause  which  has  done  more  to  lead  men 
into  embarrassment,  distress,  and  crime,  than  disre- 
gard of  this  caution.  And  what  makes  it  worse 
is,  that  men  of  the  best  understandings  and  finest 
natural  dispositions  are  quite  as  liable  as  any  to  fall 
into  the  snare.  It  is  not  generally  our  judgment 
which  is  at  fault  in  such  cases.  We  know  that  the 
solicitation  is  an  improper  one,  and  ought  to  be  re- 
sisted ;  still  we  cannot  muster  resolution  enough  to 
do  it. 

A  young  man  just  entering  into  life  is  solicited 
by  his  gay  companions  to  take  part  in  their  dissipa- 
tions.    He  feels  that  it  would  be  wrong;  that  it  can 


240  THOU  SHALT  SAY,  NO. 

lead  to  nothing  but  evil ;  that  it  ought  to  be  resisted. 
And  yet  he  cannot  muster  resolution  enough  to  say, 
No.  He  consents,  goes  on  from  step  to  step,  and 
in  the  end  is  ruined.  An  affectionate  mother  is 
besought  by  her  children  to  grant  them  some  im- 
proper indulgence.  She  feels  that  it  would  be  an 
improper  indulgence ;  that  it  can  only  do  them  harm, 
and  therefore  that  she  ought  not  to  grant  it.  And 
yet  she  cannot  find  it  in  her  heart  to  say,  No.  She 
consents,  and  her  children  are  materially  injured, 
perhaps  ruined.  A  person  is  importuned  by  his  fam- 
ily, or  his  friends,  to  go  into  habits  of  living  more 
expensive  than  he  can  afford.  He  knows  that  his 
resources  are  not  equal  to  it.  He  feels  that  this 
will  soon  appear,  and  therefore  that  it  is  folly  and 
madness  in  him  to  do  it.  And  yet  he  cannot  muster 
resolution  enough  to  say.  No.  He  consents,  and 
is  ruined.  A  man  in  business  is  importuned  to  be 
bound  for  another.  He  feels  that  it  would  be  the 
height  of  imprudence ;  that  it  would  be  to  risk  not 
his  own  property  only,  but  that  of  his  creditors, 
and  this  too,  perhaps,  without  any  real  benefit  to 
the  person  he  would  befriend.  He  feels  that  he  has 
no  right  to  do  it.  And  yet  he  cannot  find  it  in  his 
heart  to  say.  No.  He  consents,  and  it  turns  out 
just  as  he  expected, — he  is  ruined. 

All  this  comes  from  a  man's  not  having  resolu- 
tion enough  to  say.  No,  when  he  feels  and  knows 


THOU  SHALT   SAY,  NO.  241 

that  this  is  the  proper  word.  You  must  admit,  there- 
fore, I  think,  that  the  subject  is  of  sufficient  impor- 
tance to  engage  your  attention,  while  a  few  consid- 
erations are  offered  which  should  induce  us  all  to 
act  with  more  firmness  and  consistency  in  this  re- 
spect. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  let  us  learn  to  respect 
our  own  judgment  in  what  we  do.  If,  on  a  view 
of  all  the  circumstances,  we  think  we  ought  to  say. 
No,  let  us  have  the  courage  and  firmness  and  inde- 
pendence to  say  it. 

As  we  have  before  observed,  it  is  not  often  that 
our  judgment  is  at  fault  in  such  cases.  We  think 
right,  but  we  have  not  courage  and  independence 
enough  to  act  as  we  think  ;  for  fear  that  after  all 
we  may  be  mistaken ;  or  for  fear  of  the  construction 
other  people  may  put  on  our  motives ;  or  for  fear 
of  losing  the  favor  or  incurring  the  enmity  of  the 
persons  we  may  disoblige  by  our  refusal.  We  should 
remember,  however,  that  there  is  a  degree  of  courage, 
firmness,  and  independence  necessary,  not  only  to 
a  wise,  but  even  to  a  virtuous  conduct.  A  man 
who  dares  not  act  according  to  his  own  convictions 
of  what  is  right,  for  fear  that  after  all  he  may 
be  mistaken,  —  I  will  not  say  that  he  has  no  re- 
gard for  conscience,  but  this  I  will  say  :  he  has  no 
confidence  in  conscience,  which  in  practice  amounts 
to  nearly  tlie  same  thing.  Besides,  with  respect  to 
11  p 


242  THOU   SHALT   SAY,   NO. 

the  construction  which  other  people  may  put  on  our 
motives,  if  we  only  take  care  that  our  motives  are 
what  they  should  be,  and  that  our  whole  conduct 
is  in  keeping,  we  need  not  entertain  any  apprehen- 
sions but  that  in  the  long  run  ample  justice  will 
be  done  them  by  all  whose  approbation  is  worth  hav- 
ing. Nay,  a  person  who  is  understood  to  pursue 
this  independent  course,  —  who  is  understood  to  act 
in  all  cases  from  his  own  convictions  of  what  is  proper 
and  right,  derives  a  peculiar  credit  from  this  very 
circumstance ;  so  that  though  in  his  conduct  he  may 
sometimes  fall  into  manifest  error,  his  motives  will 
never  be  called  in  question.  Things  will  not  be 
blamed  in  him  which  would  hardly  be  tolerated  in 
anybody  else.  And  even  the  person  whom  you  dis- 
oblige by  your  refusal,  you  will  not  lose  his  regard 
if  he  is  convinced,  by  the  firmness  and  consistency 
of  your  general  conduct,  that  you  refuse  him  on 
principle.  Nay,  he  will  feel,  and  in  spite  of  himself 
he  cannot  but  feel,  a  thousand  times  more  respect 
for  you  who  thus  refuse  his  request,  than  for  those 
who  grant  it,  under  circumstances,  however,  which 
convince  him,  that  it  is  only  because  they  have  not, 
like  you,  sufficient  firmness  and  independence  to 
say.  No. 

I  have  shown  that  it  is  but  the  part  of  a  manly 
independence  to  have  the  courage  and  firmness  to 
say,   No,  when  we   are   convinced   that   tliis   is   the 


THOU   SHALT    SAY,   NO.  243 

proper  word.  I  shall  proceed  to  show,  in  the  second 
place,  that  it  is  no  less  a  dictate  of  prudence^  and 
practical  wisdom. 

You  can  hardly  step  your  foot  on  the  threshold 
of  life  without  encountering  seduction  in  every  pos- 
sible shape  ;  and  unless  you  are  prepared  to  resist 
it  firmly,  you  are  a  doomed  man.      What  makes  it 
still  more  dangerous  is,  that  the  first  solicitations  of 
vice   often   come   under   such   disguised   forms,    and 
relate    to    things    seemingly    so   trivial,    as    to    give 
hardly   any   warning   of  the    fatal   consequences,   to 
which  by   slow   and   insensible   gradations   they   are 
almost    sure    to    lead.      As    you    value,    then,   your 
health  and  reputation,  your  peace  of  mind  and  per- 
sonal independence,   learn   to    say.   No.      You   that 
are  just  entering  into   life,  do  not  wait  to  learn  it 
from  your  own  bitter  experience  ;  learn  it  from  the 
example  and  fate  of  others  ;  learn  it  from  the  Word 
of  God.     Remember,  it  was  for  not  doing  this  that 
our  first  parents  fell ;  and  after  them  all  their  chil- 
dren, in  like  manner.      "  The  serpent  beguiled  me, 
and  I  did  eat,"  has  been  the  history  of  sin,  from 
its  first  commencement  in  the  Garden  of  Eden.    In- 
quire  into  the  sources  of  human  misery,  study  the 
first  beginnings  of  crime,  and,  meet  with  it  where 
you  may,  by  tracing  it  back  to  its  first  cause  you 
will  find  it  to  have  been,  in  almost  every  instance, 
merely    because    they    could    not    say.    No,    to    the 


244  THOU   SHALT   SAY,  NO. 

Tempter.  Put  the  question  to  one  who  has  wasted 
his  substance  in  riotous  living,  put  it  to  him  who 
has  staked  his  last  shilling  and  lost  it  at  the  gaming- 
table, put  it  to  the  first  miserable  object  who  asks 
alms  of  you  in  the  streets,  or  go  into  your  prisons 
and  put  it  to  the  felon  there ;  and  they  will  all 
answer  you  to  the  same  effect,  and  almost  in  the 
same  words.  The  burden  of  their  confession  will 
be,  that  they  owe  every  calamity  which  has  befallen 
them  to  their  not  having  had  firmness  enough,  at 
some  turning-point  of  their  destiny,  to  say.  No. 

As  you  would  avoid  their  fate,  let  me  then  con- 
jure you  to  avoid  its  cause.  I  am  not  now  ap- 
pealing to  your  sense  of  right,  or  the  obligations 
you  are  under  to  society  or  your  Maker.  I  am 
appealing  to  the  strongest,  or  at  least  the  most  uni- 
versal instinct  in  the  human  mind,  —  a  desire  to 
escape  evil  in  your  own  persons ;  and  if  there  were 
no  other  topic  of  which  I  could  avail  myself,  this 
alone  I  should  consider  as  sufficient,  so  clearly  is 
the  maxim  which  I  am  recommending  a  dictate  of 
an  enlightened  and  well-regulated  self-love.  To  be 
sure  it  is  easy  enough  to  conceive  of  cases  in  which 
to  say,  No,  even  though  we  ought  to  say  it,  may 
give  us  some  pain  at  the  time.  But  what  of  that  ? 
How  much  better,  how  much  more  prudent  to  meet 
this  evil  at  once,  rather  than  suffer  it  to  grow  upon 
us   by  concession  and   delay,  and  this,  too,  with   a 


THOU  SHALT   SAY,  NO.  245 

moral  certainty  that  it  must  be  met  sooner  or  later, 
and  under  circumstances  of  continually  increasing 
pain  and  difficulty.  If  we  could  say,  Yes,  to  every- 
thing, and  that  were  the  last  of  it,  we  might  be  in- 
clined, very  naturally  and  very  reasonably,  to  a  course 
apparently  so  amiable  and  so  accommodating.  But 
when  we  know  that  it  is  only  to  involve  ourselves 
and  our  friends  in  the  ruinous  consequences  of  a 
mistake  which  will  certainly  injure,  and  very  pos- 
sibly may  ruin  both,  —  who  does  not  perceive  that  it 
is  to  violate  every  principle  of  practical  wisdom  ? 

The  same  conduct  which  I  have  shown  to  be 
necessary  to  a  manly  independence  and  to  a  pru- 
dent regard  to  our  own  interest,  I  shall  next  prove 
to  be  in  no  sense  inconsistent  with  a  benevolent  and 
truly  generous  disposition. 

One  of  the  most  common  mistakes  on  this  sub- 
ject is  to  confound  an  easy  disposition  with  a  be- 
nevolent disposition :  two  things  which  in  fact  are 
as  wide  asunder  as  the  East  from  the  West.  A 
man  of  an  easy  disposition  is  so  commonly  merely 
because  he  will  not  make  the  effort  a  more  firm 
and  steady  conduct  requires.  And  why  will  he  not 
make  this  effort  ?  Because  he  will  not  take  the 
trouble  of  making  it.  He  yields  to  importunity  in 
almost  every  instance  from  the  same  motive  witli 
the  unjust  judge  mentioned  in  Scripture  :  "  Lest  by 
her  continual  coming  she  weary  me."      But  is  this 


246  THOU  SHALT   SAY,  NO. 

benevolence  ?  Is  it  so  much  as  an  abuse  of  benev- 
olence ?     Is  it  not  sheer  selfishness  ? 

I  know  that  another  plea  is  often  set  up.  It  is 
remarkable  of  most  of  our  weaknesses,  as  of  our 
vices,  that  all  are  for  claiming  kindred  with  virtue, 
pretending  to  be  the  offspring  of  some  good  dis- 
position, —  carried  a  little  too  far  perhaps,  but  still 
a  good  disposition.  This  propensity  is  strikingly  ex- 
emplified in  the  weakness  which  it  is  our  present  object 
to  expose.  We  choose  to  believe  and  to  have  others 
believe,  that  our  unwillingness  to  say,  No,  arises 
wholly,  or  chiefly,  from  our  unwillingness  to  give 
anybody  the  pain  of  a  refusal ;  that  it  springs  from 
benevolence,  because  it  hurts  our  feelings  to  hurt 
the  feelings  of  other  people  :  so  that,  after  all,  the 
worst  that  can  be  said  of  it  is,  that  it  is  an  excess 
of  benevolence. 

But  let  us  examine  this  plea  a  little  more  closely. 
It  is,  you  will  observe,  because  it  hurts  our  feelings 
to  hurt  the  feelings  of  other  people  that  we  are 
thus  unwilling  to  say.  No.  It  might  hurt  the  feel- 
ings of  other  people  just  as  much  as  it  now  does, 
and  still  if  this  did  not,  by  a  law  of  our  nature, 
have  the  effect  to  hurt  our  feelings  too,  it  is  not 
pretended  that  we  should  experience  any  of  this 
reluctance.  To  give  a  case  in  point.  A  weak  mother 
cannot  make  up  her  mind  to  refuse  anything  to  a 
darling  child,  even  though  she  knows  it  will  be  to 


THOU   SHALT   SAY,   NO.  247 

the  child's  serious  injury,  and  all,  forsooth,  because 
it  will  hurt  her  feelings  so  much  to  give  the  child 
the  pain  of  a  refusal.  Suppose  it  will  hurt  her 
feelings  ;  it  is  certainly  a  strange  mark  of  benev- 
olence to  the  child  to  be  willing  to  do  him  an 
essential  injury,  rather  than  to  hurt  her  own  feel- 
ings. After  all,  you  perceive  that  it  is  her  own 
feelings  she  is  thinking  of,  and  not  the  good  of  the 
child ;  nay,  that  she  is  willing  to  sacrifice  the  good  of 
the  child  to  her  own  feelings.  And  pray,  is  not  this 
selfishness,  —  a  little  disguised  perhaps,  a  little  re- 
fined perhaps,  but  still  at  bottom  a  real  selfishness  ? 

A  timid  acquiescence  in  what  we  feel  to  be  wrong 
is  often  the  result  of  mere  selfishness ;  and  where 
it  is  not  the  result  of  selfishness,  it  is  the  result  of 
weakness.  Indeed,  we  can  hardly  give  to  any  one 
so  strong  a  proof  of  genuine  friendship,  as  to  resist 
his  importunities  to  the  last,  when  convinced  that 
it  would  be  to  his  injury,  were  we  to  consent.  For 
it  shows  that  we  are  thinking  of  his  good,  and  that 
we  have  more  regard  for  that  than  for  our  own  feel- 
ings, or  even  for  his  good  opinion. 

Having  shown  that  independence,  prudence,  and 
benevolence  alike  require  the  conduct  I  have  been 
recommending,  it  only  remains  for  me,  in  the  fourth 
and  last  place,  to  urge  it  upon  you  as  a  matter  -of 
moral  and  religious  duty. 

It  is  a  great  error,  though  a  common  one,  not  to 


248  THOU   SHALT   SAY,  NO. 

suppose  that  the  principle  of  duty  extends  to  almost 
all  our  actions  ;  requiring  them  or  forbidding  them, 
as  being  either  right  or  wrong.  We  talk  of  actions 
as  being  honorable  or  dishonorable,  as  being  pru- 
dent or  imprudent,  as  being  benevolent  or  other- 
wise, but  what  is  honorable  or  prudent  or  benevo- 
lent is  also  right.  Everything,  therefore,  which  has 
already  been  said  to  prove  the  conduct  in  question 
a  dictate  of  benevolence,  prudence,  and  manly  inde- 
pendence, goes  also  to  the  same  extent  to  prove  it 
to  be  our  duty,  —  our  imperative  duty. 

Besides,  take  the  words  as  they  stand.  If,  con- 
sidering all  the  circumstances,  we  ou^ht  to  say.  No, 
then  it  is  our  duty  to  say  it,  let  the  consequences 
be  what  they  may.  It  is  nothing,  that  the  customs 
of  the  country  authorize  and  even  expect  a  differ- 
ent conduct;  it  is  nothing,  that  the  world  may  put 
a  false  construction  on  our  motives  ;  it  is  nothing 
that  it  may  hurt  our  own  feelings  or  the  feelings  of 
others.  There  are  many  other  duties  which  we  are 
called  upon  to  practise  at  all  these  hazards ;  but 
in  no  case  do  these  hazards,  or  can  these  hazards,  pro- 
cure for  us  a  dispensation.  If  it  is  our  duty,  it  is 
our  duty.  If  it  can  only  be  practised  at  great  sac- 
rifices, this  is  our  misfortune  ;  but  it  does  not  annul 
the  laws  of  God  ;  it  does  not  destroy  our  obligations 
or  make  them  any  less  binding,  or  the  consequences 
of  violating  them  any  the  less  certain  or  fearful. 


THOU   SHALT   SAY,  NO.  249 

It  is  then  our  duty,  our  imperative  duty  to  say, 
No,  to  all  improper  solicitations.  Let  us  do  it,  there- 
fore, because  it  is  our  duty.  Let  this  be  our  motive ; 
for  but  little  reliance  can  be  placed  on  the  other 
motives  if  this  be  not  also  felt ;  nay,  if  this  be  not  the 
predominant  motive.  Some  men  can  never  say.  No, 
unless  they  are  in  a  passion,  and  are  therefore  driven 
to  the  mortifying  necessity  of  working  themselves  up 
into  a  passion  before  they  can  find  the  courage  to  do 
it.  Again  there  are  others,  who  will  trust  themselves 
to  say.  No,  only  as  a  matter  of  policy  ;  and  with 
whom,  therefore,  the  question  is  not,  What  ought  I 
to  say  ?  but.  What  will  it  be  for  my  interest  to  say  ? 
There  is  also  a  third  class  that  will  say.  No,  —  and  say 
it  often  enough  too,  if  that  were  all,  —  from  mere 
churlishness  and  ill-humor;  but  I  need  not  observe 
that  this  is  very  far  from  being  the  conduct  I  am 
here  recommending.  Putting  aside  all  such  consid- 
erations, let  us  learn  to  resist  improper  solicitations 
from  a  sense  of  duty.  It  should  be  enough  to  know 
that  it  is  our  duty.  Let  us  act  on  this  principle, 
and  we  shall  never  refuse  except  when  duty  requires 
it ;  but  at  such  times  our  refusal  will  be  much  more 
decided  and  effectual,  while  it  will  be  made  under 
circumstances  of  much  greater  dignity  on  our  part, 
and  of  much  less  irritation  on  the  part  of  those  whom 
it  may  disappoint. 

Moreover,  while  we  act  from  a  sense  of  duty,  we 
11* 


250  THOU   SHALT   SAY,  NO. 

should  connect  with  this  feeling  a  conviction  that 
it  is  one  of  religious  obligation.  God  has  required 
us  to  pursue  a  course  of  undeviating  rectitude. 
Whoever,  therefore,  would  seduce  us  from  this,  sets 
himself  against  God,  and  we  must  deny  one  or  the 
other.  Whether  in  such  a  case  we  should  deny  God, 
rather  than  man,  let  conscience  judge. 

From  what  has  been  said  we  must  perceive,  that 
it  is  alike  the  dictate  of  independence,  prudence, 
benevolence,  and  duty  to  resist  all  improper  solicita- 
tions. Let  us  learn  then  to  say.  No  ;  and  let  us 
mean  what  we  say  ;  and  let  us  stand  by  what  we 
mean. 

Are  you  solicited  to  engage  in  any  pursuits,  or 
to  enter  into  any  engagements  which  your  con- 
sciences reject,  or  which  you  foresee  will  bring  a 
cloud  on  your  prospects  of  honor  and  usefulness  ? 
"  Thou  shalt  say.  No."  Are  you  pressed  to  grant 
favors  or  indulgences  to  persons  who  have  no  right 
to  ask  them,  or  who  can  only  be  injured  by  them, 
—  favors  or  indulgences,  too,  which  you  are  not  in 
a  condition  to  bestow  consistently  with  your  other 
engagements  ?  "  Thou  shalt  say.  No."  Are  you 
importuned  to  join  in  any  amusements,  to  consent 
in  any  customs  or  concur  in  any  measures,  which 
you  believe  will  sully  the  purity  of  your  character 
or  lessen  the  weight  of  your  good  influences,  or  in 
any   way    exert    a    mischievous    effect    on    society  ? 


THOU  SHALT   SAY,   NO.  251 

"Thou   shalt   say,   No."     Let   the   consequences  be 
what  they  may,  "  Thou  shalt  say,  No." 

And  for  your  reward  you  will  have  the  approba- 
tion of  your  own  consciences,  the  esteem  and  con- 
fidence of  all  whose  favor  is  worth  desiring,  and  an 
escape  from  all  those  embarrassing  and  perhaps 
fatal  consequences  in  which  a  more  compliant  con- 
duct would  have  entangled  you.  And  what  shall 
I  say  more  ?  In  a  better  world  such  a  course  of 
firm,  consistent,  and  undeviating  rectitude  will  be 
rewarded  by  the  applause  of  angels,  the  welcome 
of  the  Saviour,  —  ''glory,  honor,  and  peace." 


THE  HEART  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD. 

KEEP  THY  HEART  WITH  ALL  DILIGENCE  ;  FOR  OUT  OF  IT  ARE  THE 

ISSUES  OF  LIFE. — Proverbs  iv.  23. 

It  is  quite  obvious  that  most  men  practically  under- 
rate the  influence  of  the  heart,  compared  with  that  of 
the  head,  on  success  and  happiness.  It  is  also  easy 
to  account  for  the  mistake,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
to  show  that  it  is  a  mistake  ;  and  this  is  what  I  now 
propose  to  do.  I  propose  to  show  that  the  Heart  is 
more  than  the  Head  in  all  the  great  interests  and 
issues  of  human  life. 

It  is  so,  in  the  first  place,  if  we  look  only  at  human 
dignity.  We  are  apt,  I  know,  to  slide  into  a  different 
opinion,  from  the  habit  of  regarding  reason  as  man's 
distinction  and  glory.  As  for  the  passions  and  affec- 
tions, we  are  said  to  share  them  with  the  inferior 
animals ;  but  reason  belongs  to  man  alone.  Hence 
the  natural  conclusion,  that  reason,  the  intellect,  the 
head  and  not  the  heart,  is  the  principal  thing. 

But  this  conclusion,  however  natural,  is  unfounded. 
There  can  be   no   doubt  that  what   constitutes  the 


THE  HEART  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD.      253 

distinction  and  glorj  of  man  may  be  traced  ultimately 
to  his  reason.  Still  his  highest  distinction  and  glory 
are  not  found  in  his  reason  as  manifested  in  mere 
understanding,  but  in  his  reason  as  manifested  in 
his  active  and  moral  powers  ;  that  is  to  say,  in  his 
sentiments,  dispositions,  affections,  after  they  have 
been  informed  and  transfigured  by  reason.  When 
we  are  told,  as  above,  that  we  share  our  passions 
and  affections  with  the  inferior  animals,  we  are  told 
one  of  those  half-truths,  which  are  often  found  to 
be  among  the  most  pernicious,  certainly  among  the 
most  seductive,  of  errors.  I  do  not  deny  that  ani- 
mals have  what  may  be  called  the  shadows,  or,  if 
you  please,  the  germs,  the  beginnings  of  some  of 
the  human  passions  and  affections :  such  as  grati- 
tude and  resentment,  the  love  of  society  and  the 
love  of  offspring.  But  in  animals  these  springs  of 
action  always^-  operate  as  blind  instincts ;  they  are 
never  unfolded  by  thought,  as  in  man,  into  intelli- 
gent and  moral  principles,  and  never  can  be ;  and 
therefore  can  never  properly  be  represented  as  be- 
ing the  same  in  animals  as  in  man,  though  called 
by  the  same  name.  Moreover,  there  are  some  pas- 
sions and  affections  in  man,  which  not  only  suppose 
reason,  but  are  founded  on  it ;  such  as  the  love  of 
truth,  the  love  of  beauty,  the  love  of  virtue,  and  the 
love  of  God ;  of  which  animals  do  not  have,  and 
cannot  have,   even   so   much  as   the   beginnings   or 


254      THE  HEART  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD. 

germs.  Accordingly  we  say,  that  the  proper  human 
passions  and  aiBfections,  some  of  which  are  founded 
on  reason,  and  ail  of  which  are  touched  and  illumi- 
nated by  reason,  are  not  shared  by  the  inferior  ani- 
mals; that  there  is  nothing  among  the  animal  in- 
stincts which  answers  to  what  is  meant  by  the  human 
heart ;  and  furthermore,  that  it  is  in  the  distinctions 
of  this  heart,  and  not  in  those  of  mere  understanding, 
sagacity,  cunning,  that  the  loftiest  qualities  of  human 
nature  are  found. 

Some  may  object  with  confidence,  that  compass 
and  reach  of  intellect  are  certainly  elements  of 
power,  and  that  power  exalts,  if  it  does  not  bless. 
But  is  it  so  clear  that  compass  and  reach  of  intellect, 
simply  considered,  are  elements  of  power  ?  Can  you 
not  conceive  of  persons,  have  you  never  met  with 
persons,  who  are  very  knowing,  yet  very  inefficient 
and  weak  where  anything  is  to  be  done  9  I  am  afraid 
it  may  sound  like  affectation  or  pedantry  to  call  in 
question  the  often  repeated  aphorism  of  Lord  Bacon, 
that  "  Knowledge  is  power."  Nevertheless,  knowl- 
edge is  not  power,  personal  power,  but  only  one  of  its 
instruments.  The  power  is  not  in  the  knowledge,  but 
in  the  moral  qualities  or  the  passions  which  accom- 
pany it,  which  lie  behind  it,  constituting  what  is 
called  force  of  character.  Without  this  force  of  char- 
acter, which  resides  in  the  impulsive  part  of  our 
nature,  all  the  knowledge  in  the  world  would  not 


THE  HEART  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD.       255 

make  a  man  personally  powerfnl  either  for  good  or 
for  evil.  I  do  not  deny  that  the  highest  order  of 
greatness  among  civilized  men  supposes  high  intel- 
lectual endowments  ;  but  it  supposes  them  just  as 
the  highest  order  of  greatness  among  savages  sup- 
poses gigantic  strength  and  stature.  It  supposes  them, 
not  as  the  essence,  but  as  the  instrument  of  great- 
ness :  the  essence  of  greatness,  always  and  every- 
where, is  a  great  spirit.  Where  this  exists  in  an 
eminent  degree,  that  is  to  say,  where  there  is  a 
union  of  courage,  self-devotion,  and  a  lofty  purpose, 
it  is  amazing  how  much  a  man  can  do,  without  ex- 
traordinary intellectual  gifts,  to  make  himself  really 
great,  to  impress  himself  on  the  circle  in  which  he 
moves,  and  even  on  his  country  and  the  age,  and 
this,  too,  not  merely  as  a  man  of  affairs,  but  as  a 
controlling  mind  in  church  or  state. 

Thus  much  of  human  greatness.  But  if,  as  befits 
the  condition  and  prospects  of  most  men,  we  do  not 
aspire  to  be  great,  but  only  to  be  truly  happy ^  here 
I  hardly  need  say  that  the  heart  is  not  only  the 
principal  thing,  but  almost  everything.  What  is 
happiness  but  the  sum  total  of  the  gratifications  of 
a  man's  affections  and  desires  ?  Here,  therefore,  it 
is  certain  that  the  heart  is  more  than  the  head.  In- 
tellectual superiority  has  been  shown  to  be,  and  we 
have  expressly  allowed  it  to  be,  one  of  the  instru- 
ments   of  greatness,   though    not    any  part   of  the 


256      THE  HEART  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD. 

essence  of  real  greatness  ;  but  I  am  not  sure  that  we 
have  a  right  to  set  it  down  as  being  even  so  much 
as  one  of  the  means  or  instruments  of  happiness.  You 
may  urge  that  it  often  enlarges  a  man's  sphere  of 
usefulness :  and  so  it  does  ;  but  the  happiness  result- 
ing from  usefulness  does  not  depend  on  the  amount 
of  good  done  ;  it  depends  on  the  spirit  with  which 
it  is  done,  on  its  being  done  from  the  love  of  good- 
ness. Still  you  may  insist,  that  so  far  as  happiness 
is  made  up  of  the  pleasures  of  knowledge,  it  must 
certainly  be  greater  in  proportion  to  the  extent  of 
the  knowledge.  Even  this,  however,  by  no  means 
follows.  The  pleasures  of  knowledge  itself  do  not 
depend  on  the  extent  of  the  knowledge,  or  of  the 
capacity  of  knowledge,  but  on  the  love  of  knowl- 
edge ;  which  brings  us  back  again  to  a  quality  of 
the  heart. 

But  enough  of  greatness  and  happiness ;  it  is 
time  to  speak  of  character.  I  observe,  then,  sec- 
ondly, that  the  heart  has  more  to  do  than  the  head 
in  determining  the  distinctions  of  character. 

We  have  just  seen  that  men  often  mistake  the 
relation  which  reason  bears  to  human  dignity.  It 
is  also  true  that  they  often  mistake  the  relation 
which  principle  bears  to  character.  There  is  an  am- 
biguity in  the  meaning  of  this  word,  on  the  strength 
of  which  many  will  argue  thus :  Every  man  becomes 
what  his  principles  make  him  ;   but  a  man's  prin- 


THE  HEAET  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD.      257 

ciples  are  what  he  thinks  to  be  right.  Now  to 
think  is  obviously  a  function  of  the  head,  and  not 
of  the  heart,  of  the  intellect,  and  not  of  the  feel- 
ings :  whence  they  conclude  that  every  man  is  what 
the  use  or  abuse  of  his  intellect  makes  him  to  be. 

In  order  to  set  aside  this  conclusion  it  is  not 
necessary  to  contradict,  in  terms,  the  proposition  on 
which  the  argument  is  based.  All  must  agree  that 
a  man's  real  character  depends,  not  on  his  outward 
actions,  but  on  the  principles  from  which  he  acts. 
By  principles,  however,  in  this  connection,  we  are 
not  to  understand  express,  but  operative  principles  ; 
not  abstract  rules  assented  to  as  true  and  right,  but 
real  springs  of  action  existing  in  the  individual  him- 
self; that  is  to  say,  his  predominant  appetites,  de- 
sires, affections.  We  aim  to  judge  men,  as  far  as 
we  are  able,  not  according  to  what  they  do,  nor 
yet  according  to  what  they  think;  but  according  to 
what  they  incline  to  or  love :  not  according  to  what 
they  think  they  ought  to  love,  but  according  to 
what  they  show  they  really  love.  Thus  we  do  not 
call  a  man  a  miser  merely  because  he  saves  money ; 
for  he  may  save  money  to  give  it  away :  but  we 
call  a  man  a  miser  because  he  saves  money  from 
the  love  of  money.  Again,  we  call  a  man  generous, 
not  because  he  is  lavish  of  his  gifts ;  for  he  may  be 
lavish  of  his  gifts  from  ostentation,  or  from  political 
motives :    but   we   call    him   generous,   because   we 

Q 


258       THE  HEART  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD. 

believe  him  to  give  from  a  generous  disposition.  For 
the  same  reason,  we  call  a  man  cheerful  and  re- 
signed, not  because  we  understand  him  to  have 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  cheerfulness  and  resig- 
nation are  good  things ;  but  because  we  believe 
that  he  really  has  a  cheerful  and  resigned  temper. 

But  why  multiply  illustrations  ?  In  our  judg- 
ments of  character,  and  especially  in  our  more  solemn 
judgments  of  moral  character,  it  is  always  so.  Law, 
human  law,  deals  with  the  outward  act ;  morality, 
with  the  inward  feeling,  sentiment,  or  propensity 
which  prompts  the  act.  Morality,  it  is  true,  pro- 
nounces the  act  to  be  right  or  wrong ;  it  approves 
or  condemns  the  outward  act,  but  it  approves  or 
condemns  it  as  exemplifying'  some  good  or  bad  affec- 
tion or  disposition.  At  bottom,  what  is  approved 
or  condemned  is  some  good  or  bad  affection  or  dis- 
position. To  be  convinced  of  this  it  is  only  neces- 
sary to  reflect,  how  instantly  our  gratitude  for  a 
gift  is  changed  into  indifference  or  contempt,  on 
ascertaining  that  it  did  not  originate,  as  we  at  first 
supposed,  in  the  kindness  or  generosity  of  the  giver, 
but  in  some  selfish  or  sinister  purpose :  for  ex- 
ample, that  it  was  intended  to  seduce  or  corrupt  us. 

Thus  it  appears  that  all  the  distinctions  of  char- 
acter, as  well  as  of  happiness  and  dignity,  resolve 
themselves  at  last  into  distinctions  of  disposition  or 
temper,  and  not  of  intellect  or  understanding,  show- 


TIIE   HEART   MORE   THAN   THE   HEAD.  259 

ing  incontestably,  as  it  seems  to  me,  that  the  heart, 
and  not  the  head,  is  the  princijDal  thing. 

So  hkewise  the  Gospel  teaches.  Here,  I  am  aware, 
we  have  no  right  to  construe  the  term  hearty  which 
is  of  so  frequent  recurrence  in  Scripture,  as  sug- 
gesting of  itself^  as  it  commonly  does  in  modern 
speech,  the  antithesis  between  the  affections  and  the 
understanding ;  or,  in  other  words,  the  heart  in  con- 
tradistinction to  the  head.  The  reason  is,  that,  in 
popular  language,  the  ancients  generally,  and  among 
the  rest  the  Hebrews,  did  not,  like  us,  make  the  head 
the  seat  of  the  understanding,  and  the  heart  tlie  seat 
of  the  affections :  they  made  the  heart  to  be  the  seat 
of  both.  Still  whenever  the  state  of  the  heart  is  re- 
ferred to  in  the  New  Testament  as  a  condition  of  Di- 
vine favor,  or  of  final  salvation,  I  believe  it  can  always 
be  shown,  either  from  the  connection,  or  in  some 
other  way,  to  denote  a  state  of  the  affections,  —  a 
state  of  the  active  and  moral  powers,  —  and  not  of 
the  understanding  merely,  or  of  the  speculative  con- 
victions, or  of  outward  service.  "  For  he  is  not  a  Jew, 
who  is  one  outwardly;  neither  is  that  circumcision 
which  is  outward  in  the  flesh :  but  he  is  a  Jew,  who 
is  one  inwardly;  and  circumcision  is  that  of  the 
heart,  in  the  spirit  and  not  in  the  letter,  whose  praise 
is  not  of  men,  but  of  God."  The  same  doctrine  is 
inculcated,  and  if  possible  still  more  explicitly  and 
emphatically,  in  the  two  great  commandments  which 


260       THE  HEAET  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD. 

sum  up  the  whole  of  what  is  peculiar  to  Christian 
duty.  "  Jesus  said  unto  him,  '  Thou  shalt  love  the 
Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy 
soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind.  This  is  the  first  and 
great  commandment.  And  the  second  is  like  unto 
it,  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.'  " 

To  this  some  may  object,  that  the  primary  con- 
ception of  Christianity  is  that  of  a  revelation^  a  reve- 
lation of  truth;  so  that  the  great  and  all-important 
act  of  accepting  it  must  be  an  intellectual  act ;  not 
something  to  be  felt,  but  something  to  be  under- 
stood and  believed  ;  something,  in  short,  which  the 
head  is  to  do,  and  not  the  heart. 

The  objection,  as  here  stated,  is  certainly  not  with- 
out force.  If  the  Gospel  were  now  set  forth  for 
the  first  time  as  a  new  revelation,  and  we  were 
called  upon  to  believe  it,  or  not,  according  as  the 
evidence  should  strike  our  minds,  it  would  perhaps 
be  true,  that  the  first  act  in  becoming  a  Christian, 
or  rather,  in  putting  ourselves  into  a  condition  to 
become  a  Christian,  would  be  an  intellectual  act. 
First  of  all,  we  should  have  to  decide  the  question, 
whether  Jesus  really  was,  what  he  claimed  to  be, 
"  a  Teacher  come  from  God ; "  and  this  decision, 
right  or  wrong,  would  be  an  act  of  the  understand- 
ing, —  of  the  judgment,  and  not  of  the  affections. 
To  a  certain  extent  this  was  the  state  of  things  in 
the  primitive  Church :  the  Gospel  was  preached   to 


THE  HEART  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD.      261 

Jews  and  pagans,  who  had  to  be  convmced  that 
the  old  religions  were  false  or  imperfect,  and  that 
the  new  religion  was  true,  before  they  could  be 
said  to  be  in  a  condition  to  become  Christians. 
Hence,  I  hardly  need  say,  much  of  the  stress  which 
the  New  Testament  lays  on  knowing  and  believing', 
and  on  distinguishing  between  the  true  and  the 
false,  as  the  first  things  to  be  attended  to.  Even 
under  such  circumstances,  however,  though  the  in- 
tellectual act  must  be  admitted  to  be  the  first  act 
in  the  order  of  time,  it  by  no  means  follows  that  it 
would  be  the  principal  act.  Thousands  and  tens  of 
thousands  have  believed  that  "  Jesus  is  the  Christ," 
without  even  so  much  as  trying,  or  seriously  in- 
tending, to  have  his  spirit,  or  walk  in  his  steps  ; 
who  were,  therefore,  "  none  of  His."  They  have 
not  even  so  much  as  begun  to  be  Christians  :  they 
have  only  begun  to  believe  in  Christianity.  "  Yea, 
a  man  may  say.  Thou  hast  faith,  and  I  have  works : 
show  me  thy  faith  without  thy  works,  and  I  will 
show  thee  my  faith  by  my  works.  Thou  believest 
that  there  is  one  God  ;  thou  doest  well :  the  devils 
also  believe,  and  tremble.^' 

And,  besides,  I  have  been  referring  to  a  state  of 
things  very  different  from  that  which  prevails  at  pres- 
ent in  the  Christian  world.  We  are  now  born  into 
a  community  which  is  Christian,  so  far  at  least  as 
this,  that  the  truth  of  Christianity  is  taken  for  granted 


262      THE  HEART  MORE  THAN  THE.  HEAD. 

in  most  of  the  forms  and  institutions  of  society,  in 
the  current  literature  of  the  day,  in  the  prayers  and 
catechisms  which  are  taught  in  the  nursery.  The 
consequence  is,  that  we  begin  with  believing.  We 
do  not  begin  with  doubting,  or  even  with  inquir- 
ing; we  begin  with  believing,  and  the  multitude 
never  know  what  it  is  not  to  believe.  They  are  not 
called  upon  to  choose  their  religion ;  they  do  not 
pass  from  a  state  of  unbelief  or  misbelief  into  the 
true  belief;  they  take  Christianity  for  granted  from 
the  beginning.  Though  they  may  occasionally  have 
their  difficulties  about  it,  the  multitude  never  think 
of  renouncing  it  as  a  fable.  With  respect  to  them, 
therefore,  not  merely  the  principal,  but  the  first  and 
sole  change  through  which  they  pass  in  becoming 
practical  Christians,  is  a  change  from  believing  Chris- 
tianity to  be  true  to  feeling  it  to  be  true,  and  acting 
accordingly.  In  other  words,  it  is  a  change,  not  of 
the  intellect,  but  of  the  aifections  and  life  ;  not  of 
the  head,  but,  as  the  Scriptures  continually  teach, 
of  the  heart. 

But  the  objection  may  be  made  to  assume  another 
form.  It  may  be  said,  that  the  Christian  life  must 
certainly  have  its  peculiar  principles,  by  which  it 
is  distinguished  as  the  Christian  life ;  and  these  prin- 
ciples must  be  understood  by  the  believer,  in  order 
that  he  may  act  them  out.  A  man  is  not  a  Christian, 
not  at  least  in  a  practical  sense  of  that  word,  merely 


THE  HEAET  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD.      263 

because  he  believes  that  Christianity  is  true,  or  merely 
because  he  feels  it  to  be  all-important,  necessary  in- 
deed to  salvation ;  but  because  he  knows  what  it 
teaches,  and  endeavors  to  live  up  to  it,  as  nearly  as 
human  infirmity  will  permit.  Hence  it  would  seem, 
that  we  can  have  Christian  affections  only  on  the 
conditions  of  first  having  a  Christian  understanding 
or  intellect. 

Here,  again,  there  is  no  occasion  to  urge  extreme 
views.  I  have  not  undertaken  to  prove  that  the 
heart  is  everything,  and  the  head  nothing ;  but  only, 
that  the  heart  is  more  than  the  head.  Accordingly, 
in  my  reply  to  that  form  of  the  objection  which  is 
now  before  us,  it  is  not  necessary,  neither  would  it 
be  wise  on  general  grounds,  to  undervalue  the  im- 
portance of  learning  in  its  place,  or  of  right  opinions 
in  religion,  or  of  a  sound  judgment  in  religious  mat- 
ters. Right  religious  views  are  of  great  moment, 
and  they  are  becoming  more  and  more  so  in  propor- 
tion as  the  community  is  becoming  more  and  more 
generally  educated.  Nothing  but  right  religious 
views  will  be  likely  to  satisfy  such  a  community  for 
any  length  of  time ;  nothing  else  will  bear  the  criti- 
cism to  which  it  will  be  exposed  under  such  cir- 
cumstances ;  nothing  else  can  be  put  in  harmony 
with  the  advanced  state  and  free  character  of  thought 
on  other  subjects ;  nothing  else,  when  reduced  to 
practice,   will   become    in    all   respects    the   practice 


264      THE  HEART  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD. 

which  Christianity  requires.  All  this  is  freely  con- 
ceded ;  nevertheless,  even  here,  right  religious  views 
are  not  the  principal  thing.  Right  religious  views 
of  themselves  do  not  make  a  man  to  be  a  Christian 
in  a  practical  sense  of  that  word  (that  is,  in  the 
only  sense  in  which  it  is  of  much  importance  whether 
a  man  is  a  Christian  or  not) ,  but  right  religious  dis- 
positions. E/ight  religious  views  are  not  the  end^  but 
the  means;  right  religious  dispositions  are  the  end, 
and  right  religious  views  are  only  one  of  the  prob- 
able or  possible  means  to  that  end. 

I  say,  probable  or  possible  means  ;  for,  in  the  first 
place,  because  right  religious  views  may  lead  to  right 
religious  dispositions,  it  does  not  follow  that  they 
must^  or  that  they  will  in  any  particular  case,  or  that 
they  generally  do.  It  belongs  to  minds  more  san- 
guine than  wise  to  fancy  that  they  have  found  at 
last  a  doctrinal  system,  or  theory  of  religion  which, 
if  it  were  generally  understood  and  adopted,  would 
regenerate  the  world.  A  little  more  experience  and 
observation  would  convince  such  persons,  at  least  it 
ought  to  convince  them,  that  the  conduct  of  man- 
kind is  determined  much  less  by  their  theories  than 
by  the  customs  of  the  society  in  which  they  live,  by 
sympathy  with  their  neighbors  and  associates,  and 
by  constitutional  tendencies  and  prevailing  tastes. 
Even  in  the  matter  of  health  or  worldly  prosperity, 
where  we   might  naturally  presume  that   selfishness 


THE  HEART  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD.      265 

alone  would  lead  every  one  to  turn  his  knowledge 
to  immediate  account,  I  do  not  believe  that  one  man 
in  ten  thousand  takes  that  course  which  he,  in  the- 
ory, is  convinced  is  the  wisest  and  best  course.  And 
for  this  reason  ;  —  it  does  not  happen  to  be  the  com- 
mon course,  or  an  agreeable  course.  Because  a  man 
believes  a  thing  to  be  true  or  right  or  expedient, 
it  does  not  follow  that  he  will  like  to  do  it,  or  that 
he  means  to  do  it,  or  that  he  will  do  it.  No  doubt 
something  is  gained  to  Christianity  by  disabusing 
men  of  their  ignorance  and  their  prejudices  in  re- 
spect to  it,  and  setting  the  whole  subject  before  them 
in  a  true  and  strong  light ;  but  not  so  much  as  the- 
orists and  dogmatists  are  apt  to  suppose.  Where 
the  Bible  is  so  generally  read,  and  early  religious 
instruction  is  so  generally  attended  to,  as  among  us, 
the  great  difficulty  in  the  way  of  a  Christian  life  is 
not  want  of  knowledge,  but  want  of  heart.  Men 
have  their  worldly  and  selfish  nature,  and  their  bad 
passions  ;  and  these  they  will  continue  to  gratify, 
though  they  know  it  to  be  wrong,  and  contrary  to 
God's  word,  until  their  hearts  are  changed. 

Here  and  there  an  individual  may  be  met  with 
who  first  forms  a  theory  of  what  life  should  be,  and 
then  lives  it  out.  Under  some  circumstances,  as  in 
the  springing  up  of  a  new  religion,  or  of  a  new  sect, 
instances  of  this  sort  are  more  frequent  than  under 
others ;  still  they  constitute  the  exceptions  and  not 

12 


266      THE  HEART  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD. 

the  general  rule.  The  general  rule  is,  that  men  par- 
ticipate in  the  sentiments  and  character  of  the  com- 
munity to  which  they  belong ;  and  this,  too,  not  so 
much  by  instruction,  as  by  imitation  and  sympathy, 
through  the  heart,  and  not  through  the  head.  Speak- 
ing generally,  men  do  not  live  according  to  theory 
or  system  of  any  kind,  but  according  to  example 
and  sympathy.  In  morals,  a  man  does  not  begin  by 
forming  a  conception  of  what  he  ought  to  be,  and 
then  set  himself  to  work  to  turn  that  conception  into 
reality.  He  is  won  to  virtue  partly  by  virtuous 
impulses  awakened  in  his  own  nature,  partly  by  his 
worldly  interests  pointing  the  same  way,  and  partly 
by  the  example  of  the  good  men  around  him  ;  the  fact 
of  his  becoming  virtuous  not  depending  on  his  hav- 
ing the  right  theory  of  virtue,  or  any  theory.  And 
so  in  religion.  As  a  general  rule,  a  man  becomes 
religious,  not  from  any  theory  of  religion,  true  or 
false;  but  partly  from  the  religious  instincts  of  his 
nature,  and  partly  from  intercourse  with  religious 
men,  and  the  many  impressive  experiences  of  life, 
all  of  which  have  the  effect  to  awaken  and  call  out 
his  religious  instincts.  Take  away  his  religious  in- 
stincts, and  all  the  teaching  in  the  world  would  not 
make  him  religious ;  and  even  the  peculiar  form 
under  which  his  religious  instincts  manifest  them- 
selves will  be  determined,  for  the  most  part,  not  by 
teaching,  but  by  imitation  and  sympathy. 


THE  HEART  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD.      267 

Do  you  ask  again,  How  can  a  man  be  a  Chris- 
tian unless  he  acts  from  Christian  principles  ?  and 
how  can  he  act  from  Christian  principles,  unless  he 
knows  what  Christian  principles  are  ?  I  answer,  that 
whatever  apparent  force  or  pertinency  these  ques- 
tions may  have  is  wholly  owing  to  a  fallacy  which 
underlies  them,  and  which,  under  another  connec- 
tion, has  already  been  exposed  in  this  discourse. 
You  would  build  an  argument  on  an  ambiguity 
in  the  meaning  of  the  term  principle.  The  Chris- 
tian principles  which  are  necessary  to  Christian  obe- 
dience, are  not  theoretical  principles,  dogmas,  articles 
of  creeds,  but  practical  principles,  Cliristian  springs 
of  action;  that  is  to  say.  Christian  affections  and 
dispositions.  When  it  is  said,  and  said  truly,  that 
a  man  cannot  be  a  Christian  without  acting  from 
Christian  principles,  it  is  meant  that  he  cannot  be 
a  Christian  without  acting  from  Christian  affections 
and  dispositions  :  but  affections  and  dispositions  are 
not  taught :  they  are  awakened,  unfolded,  developed. 
They  do  not  depend  on  the  state  of  the  head,  but 
on  the  state  of  the  heart.  "  With  the  heart  man 
belie vcth  unto  righteousness,  and  with  the  mouth 
confession  is  made  unto  salvation." 

This,  then,  is  the  conclusion,  to  which  I  am 
brought.  In  everything  pertaining  to  human  great- 
ness and  human  happiness,  to  moral  and  Christian 
character  and  to  final  salvation,  the  heart  is  more 


268      THE  HEART  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD. 

than  the  head.  The  heart  is  the  principal  thing. 
Out  of  that,  and  out  of  that  alone,  "  are  the  issues 
of  life." 

To  some,  indeed,  the  doctrine  here  laid  down  may 
be  so  obvious  and  incontestable,  that  my  pains  to 
establish  it  will  seem  a  waste  of  words.  But  with 
the  bulk  of  mankind  it  is  not  so.  What  young 
man  starts  in  life,  believing,  as  he  should,  that  his 
success  as  well  as  his  happiness  will  depend  more 
on  the  spirit  which  he  brings  to  his  work,  than  on 
his  genius,  his  ability,  his  industry,  or  his  acquire- 
ments ?  And  the  popular  notion  of  education  — 
does  it  not  fall  in  with  and  confirm  the  common 
mistake  ?  Talk  about  giving  to  a  young  man  the 
advantages  of  the  best  education,  and  the  thoughts 
immediately  run  on  what  is  taught  in  schools  and 
colleges ;  as  if  what  is  taught  in  schools  and  col- 
leges were  able,  of  itself,  to  make  a  man  either 
good  or  great  or  happy  ?  And  what  shall  I  say  of 
the  Church  ?  For  eighteen  centuries  its  best  energies 
have  been  consumed,  its  best  blood  has  been  poured 
out  like  water,  in  the  vain  hope  of  bringing  about 
a  unity  of  Christian  principles,  meaning  thereby  a 
unity  of  opinion  and  belief;  which  cannot  be,  and, 
even  if  it  could  be,  would  only  lead  to  evil.  Mean- 
while who  has  set  a  right  value  on  "  the  hidden 
man  of  the  heart"  ?  who  has  remembered  that  "the 
end  of  the  commandment  is  charity  out  of  a  pure 
heart"? 


THE  HEAET  MORE  THAN  THE  HEAD.      269 

The  public  mind  is  everywhere  troubled  by  the 
thought  that  neither  civilization  nor  Christianity  has 
accomplished  anything  like  the  good  which  was 
expected  from  it,  and  which  it  seemed  to  promise. 
So  it  will  continue  to  be  until  men  learn  that  mere 
refinement  and  intellectual  culture,  progress  in  sci- 
ence and  progress  in  the  arts,  are  utterly  incompetent 
to  exalt  a  people,  or  to  make  them  capable  of  self- 
government,  or  to  convert  them  from  nominal  Chris- 
tianity to  real  Christianity.  Wliat  is  wanted,  is  the 
education  of  the  conscience  ;  and  this,  too,  not  on 
the  side  of  intelligence,  but  of  sensibility,  —  "a  new 
heart  and  a  new  spirit."  The  text  has  said  it: 
"  Keep  thy  heart  with  all  diligence  ;  for  out  of  it 
are  the  issues  of  life." 


COMPROMISES. 


I  AM  MADE  ALL  THINGS  TO  ALL  MEN,  THAT  I  MIGHT  BY  ALL 

MEANS   SAVE   SOME.  —  1  Corinthians  ix.  22. 


St.  Paul  speaks  here  of  his  readiness  to  make 
concessions  in  order  to  conciliate.  He  is  willing  to 
conform,  as  far  as  he  innocently  can,  to  prevailing 
customs,  institutions,  and  modes  of  thought,  in  the 
hope  of  being  able  in  this  way  to  gain  over  more  to 
his  views.  In  one  word,  he  shows  himself  prepared 
to  give  up  something  by  way  of  compromise. 

Taking  the  example  of  this  apostle  for  my  author- 
ity and  my  point  of  departure,  I  propose  to  offer 
a  few  suggestions  on  the  morality  of  compromises. 

My  first  remark  is  one  in  which  all,  I  suppose, 
will  concur.  As  a  general  rule,  compromises  of 
every  description  are  to  be  regarded  with  distrust, 
and  rejected  when  they  can  be  without  serious  loss 
or  inconvenience.  Taken  at  the  best  they  are  of  the 
nature  of  sacrifices,  as  each  party  is  supposed  to 
give  up  something  which  he  considers  of  more  or 
less  importance.     And   this  is  not   all.     A  plan   or 


COMPEOMISES.  271 

policy  which  is  the  result  of  a  compromise  is  not  a 
single  plan  or  policy,  but  a  mixture  of  plans,  a  mix- 
ture of  policies.  Now  it  can  hardly  be  expected  of 
such  a  medley,  that  it  will  have  either  unity  or 
consistency  ;  the  several  parts,  instead  of  aiding  and 
sustaining  each  other,  will  be  very  likely  to  inter- 
fere with  and  obstruct  each  other.  Take  any  one 
of  the  plans  originally  proposed,  in  its  simplicity 
and  integrity,  and  you  would  probably  have  a  good 
plan  on  the  principles  assumed;  but  mix  them  to- 
gether, and  the  chance  is  that  you  will  have  a  plan 
which  is  not  a  good  one  on  any  principles.  Add 
to  this,  what  is  of  great  moment  in  a  practical  view 
of  the  matter,  it  will  be  a  plan  for  the  successful 
working  of  which  no  one  will  feel  himself  to  be  per- 
sonally responsible.  After  all,  it  will  not  be  his  plan, 
though  he  adopts  it  for  the  sake  of  peace. 

Accordingly,  if  a  compromise  is  called  for,  the  first 
question  which  we  should  ask  ourselves  is,  whether 
the  occasion  for  making  it  may  not  be  avoided  alto- 
gether. K  we  conclude  to  act  together,  we  must  ex- 
pect to  be  called  upon  to  give  up  more  or  less  to 
each  other ;  for  it  is  not  to  be  presumed  that  several 
persons  will  accord  exactly  in  their  tastes,  their  in- 
terests, or  their  notions  of  right.  But  it  is  often  a 
matter  of  comparative  indifference  whether  we  act 
together  or  not.  Many  of  our  associations  are  en- 
tirely voluntary.     A  joint-stock  company,  a  mercan- 


272  COMPEOMISES. 

tile  firm,  a  literary  or  scientific  society,  —  it  is  en- 
tirely optional  with  us  whether  we  enter  into  such 
an  association  or  not ;  or,  if  we  belong  to  it  already, 
whether  we  continue  in  it  or  not.  If  we  find,  there- 
fore, that  we  cannot  enter  into  or  retain  such  a  con- 
nection without  being  called  upon  to  make  important 
sacrifices  by  way  of  compromise,  it  would  be  better 
for  us,  as  it  seems  to  me,  to  decline  the  connection, 
or  to  renounce  it  if  already  formed.  If  the  associa- 
tion involves  the  compromise,  and  if  the  association 
is  at  the  same  time  entirely  voluntary,  it  would  be 
better  for  us,  as  it  seems  to  me,  certainly  it  would 
be  better  for  us  as  a  general  rule,  to  have  nothing 
to  do  with  the  association. 

But  all  our  associations  are  not  voluntary^  in  the 
sense  here  intended.  The  family,  for  example,  is  not 
a  voluntary,  but  a  necessary  association  ;  and  so  like- 
wise, in  a  certain  sense  and  to  a  certain  extent,  is 
the  neighborhood,  the  church,  the  state.  I  do  not 
mean  that  a  man  is  not  at  liberty  to  quit  the  neigh- 
borhood in  which  he  lives,  the  church  to  which  he 
belongs,  and  even  the  country  in  which  he  was  born  ; 
nay,  it  is  easy  to  conceive  of  a  state  of  things  in 
which  this  would  be  not  only  a  possible,  but  the  only 
proper  course.  Suppose  this  course  taken,  however, 
and  what  would  be  the  consequence.  Simply  that 
he  would  live  in  another  neighborhood,  worship  in 
another  church,   be   subject  to  another  jurisdiction. 


COMPROMISES.  273 

I  say  it  must  be  so,  because  the  only  other  alternative 
would  be  absolute   solitude;   it  would  be  to  refuse 
to  worship  with  anybody,  or  to  recognize  any  govern- 
ment, or  any  one  as  his  neighbor  ;  and  this,  mani- 
festly, he  has  no  right  to  do,  because  virtues  and 
duties  are  enjoined  upon  him,  as  a  Christian  and  a 
man,  which  can   neither   be  acquired  nor  practised 
except  in  society.     We  are  not  at  liberty  to  run  away 
from  society.     A  man  has  no  more  right  to  run  away 
from  society,  even  if  the  thing  were  practicable  or 
easy,  than  to  run  away  from  his  family.      He  has 
virtues  and  duties  to  acquire  and  practise  there  which 
are  necessary  to  his  own  character  and  final  accept- 
ance.    Every  man  must  live  in  society;  —  I  do  not 
say,  in  this  or  that  society,  but  in  some  society.     We 
must  live  and  act  together ;  and  this  being  the  case, 
one  of  the  first  and  most  obvious  of  our  duties  is 
the  duty  of  mutual  concession  in  the  shape  of  com- 
promise. 

Concessions,  then,  we  must  make  ;  but  what  con- 
cessions ?  Neither  you  nor  I  can  expect  to  have 
everything  in  our  own  way.  We  must  give  up  more 
or  less  to  others,  in  order  that  they  may  be  disposed 
to  give  up  more  or  less  to  us.  But  what  are  we  to 
give  up  ?  and  how  much  are  we  to  give  up  ? 

Some  may  think  it  enough  to  refer  to  the  exam- 
ple of  Paul  as  set  forth  in  the  text ;  simply  affirm- 
mg   that,  whenever  it  is  necessary  to  a  benevolent 

12* 


274  COMPROMISES. 

or  moral  purpose,  we  should,  like  him,  become  "  all 
things  to  all  men."  But  what  did  the  Apostle  mean 
when  he  used  these  words  ?  when  he  spake  of  being 
"  made  all  things  to  all  men  "  ?  Certainly  it  will 
not  do  to  interpret  this  language  to  the  letter.  It 
must  not  be  so  construed  as  to  intimate  that  he  was 
ready  to  conform  to  the  opinions  and  practices  of  the 
world  whatever  they  might  be,  or  any  further  than 
he  innocently  could.  The  question,  therefore,  re- 
turns :  How  far  can  we  carry  the  spirit  of  compro- 
mise without  trenching  at  the  same  time  on  the 
laws  of  Christian  truth  and  righteousness  ? 

To  this  question  I  reply,  in  the  first  place,  by 
observing  that  we  are  in  no  danger  of  trenching  on 
the  laws  of  Christian  truth  and  righteousness  so 
long  as  our  compromises  do  not  involve  anything 
more  than  the  giving  up  of  our  own  tastes,  our 
own  convenience,  our  own  innocent  pleasures,  our 
own  interests,  even  our  own  rights,  out  of  regard 
to  others,  and  in  the  spirit  of  Christian  concession 
and  self-sacrifice.  Here,  as  it  seems  to  me,  there  is 
no  room  for  doubt,  or  difference  of  opmion.  Who- 
ever is  willing,  on  proper  occasions  and  in  a  proper 
spirit,  to  forego  liis  own  tastes  and  pleasures,  or 
waive  his  own  acknowledged  rights  and  privileges, 
for  the  sake  of  peace  and  for  tlie  public  good,  is 
not  only  justified  in  so  doing,  but  universally  ap- 
plauded.     Even  those  who  maintain  that  duty  does 


COMPROMISES.  275 

not  require  this  at  our  hands,  must  mean,  not  that 
it  is  less,  but  more,   than  duty  requires.       Indeed, 
I  do  not  see  how  it  can  be  regarded  as  more  than 
our  duty,   if  we   are   to   pay   any  respect  whatever 
to  the  example  of  Paul,  who  was  "  made  all  things 
to   all   men,"   who   exhorts  his   disciples  to  abstain 
from   so  asserting  their  acknowledged  hberty  as   to 
make   it   a   stumbling-block   to   the  weak,  and   who 
generously    exclaims,    on    one    occasion,    "If  meat 
make   my   brother  to    offend,    I    will    eat    no    flesh 
while  the  world  standeth,  lest  I  make   my  brother 
to  offend."     Above  all,  I  do  not  see  how  it  can  be 
regarded  as   more   than   our  duty,  if  we   would  be 
followers  of  Him,  who,  though  he  was  rich,  yet  for 
our  sakes  became  poor,  that  we,  through  his  poverty, 
might   be   rich,   and   who   gave   his   life    a   ransom 
for  all. 

If  by  possibility  any  difference  of  opinion  should 
arise  respecting  the  principles  here  laid  down,  it 
must  be  as  to  our  right  to  give  up  even  our  own 
rights.  To  say  that  we  have  a  right  to  give  up 
our  rights,  may  sound  to  some  like  a  contradiction ; 
but  it  is  a  contradiction  in  sound,  in  appearance, 
only.  If  a  debt  is  due  me,  I  have  a  right  to  imme- 
diate payment;  but  most  assuredly,  at  least  in  a 
majority  of  cases,  I  have  also  a  right  to  postpone 
the  payment,  if  I  see  fit,  or  to  remit  the  debt  alto- 
gether.    Indeed,  not  to   give   up   our  rights,  is  to 


276  COMPROMISES. 

give   up   nothing ;    for   why   talk   about    giving    up 
what  we  have  no  right  to  retain  if  we  would  ? 

At  the  same  time  it  is  proper  to  add  what  has 
doubtless  done  something  to  countenance,  and  per- 
haps to  introduce,  the  mistake  just  exposed.  Our 
right  to  give  up  our  rights  depends  on  their  being 
ours  exclusively.  We  have  no  right  to  give  up  our 
neighbors'  rights  without  their  consent,  express  or 
implied.  It  may  be  right  for  them  to  give  up  the 
rights  in  question,  but  it  is  not  right  for  us  to  do 
it  for  them,  unless  in  their  name,  and  with  their 
consent.  Thus,  a  lawyer  must  insist  on  the  rights 
of  his  clients,  and,  unless  otherwise  instructed,  on 
all  their  rights,  this  being  not  merely  his  right,  but 
his  duty,  as  their  agent.  It  is  not  for  him  to  give 
up  what  belongs  to  others,  though  he  might  be  dis- 
posed, and  though  it  might  be  very  proper  for  him 
to  give  it  up  if  it  were  his  own.  Moreover,  the 
rights  of  others  are  often  so  involved  and  com- 
plicated with  ours,  that  to  give  up  ours  is  to  give 
up,  or  seriously  to  compromise  theirs.  Here,  again, 
a  good  man  will  hesitate.  A  parent,  for  example, 
might  be  willing  to  give  up  one  or  more  of  his 
own  rights,  if  he  were  sure  that  the  loss  would 
fall  on  him  alone  ;  but  if,  on  the  contrary,  he  knows  « 
that,  directly  or  indirectly,  it  will  fall  on  the  whole 
family,  on  all  whom  he  represents,  he  will  feel  that 
they   also   ought   to   have    a   voice    in    the    matter. 


COMPROMISES.  277 

Again,  a  right  may  be  held  in  common,  and  require 
to  be  maintained  in  common,  and  all  therefore  may 
be  in  some  sense  pledged  to  its  defence  in  common, 
as  in  the  case  of  civil  or  religious  liberty.  Here, 
as  before,  no  individual  can  honestly  act  as  if  he 
alone  were  interested  in  the  event.  It  is  not  only 
the  right,  but  the  duty  of  all  to  stand  by  each 
other,  and  this,  too,  though  many,  if  left  to  act  out 
their  individual  preferences,  would  be  willing,  and 
would  choose  to  yield.  I  say,  it  is  not  only  their 
rig-Iit,  but  their  dutp ;  and  the  distinction  here  in- 
dicated between  a  right  and  a  duty  is  of  great 
moment  in  this  connection ;  for  though  it  may  be 
true,  as  I  have  attempted  to  show,  that  it  is  right, 
in  some  cases,  to  give  up  a  rig'ht  in  order  to  con- 
ciliate, or  by  way  of  compromise,  for  the  good  of 
others,  it  by  no  means  follows  that  it  would  be 
right,  in  any  such  case,  to  give  up  a  duty. 

And  this  brings  me  to  what  may  be  called  the 
pinch  of  the  question.  Have  we  a  right,  under  any 
circumstances  whatever,  to  go  contrary  to  our  duty 
for  the  sake  of  peace,  or  to  meet  those  we  must 
act  with  half-way,  or  on  the  plea  that  in  a  choice 
of  evils  we  should  take  the  least,  or  in  the  hope 
that  in  the  end  virtue  and  humanity  will  be  gainers 
by  such  a  course  ?  In  one  word,  for  it  comes  to 
this  at  last,  have  we  a  right,  under  any  circum- 
stances whatever,  to  ''do  evil  that  good  may  come  "  ? 


278  COMPEOMISES. 

Thus  stated,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  question  an- 
swers itself.  We  have  no  such  right.  The  New- 
Testament  says  emphatically  of  persons  guilty  of  the 
conduct  here  described,  that  their  "  damnation  is 
just."  I  can  easily  conceive  that  the  circumstances 
will  have  more  or  less  to  do  in  determining  what 
a  man's  duty  is  in  the  exigency  in  which  he  is 
called  to  act.  But  supposing  this  point  settled,  as 
is  the  case  in  the  form  of  the  question  as  stated 
above,  —  supposing  it  to  be  determined  what  a 
man's  duty  in  the  circumstances  is,  it  is  as  clear  as 
day  that  he  has  no  right  to  swerve  one  hair's 
breadth  from  the  direction  in  which  that  duty  points, 
come  what  may. 

But  we  must  not  think  that  the  annunciation  of 
a  moral  truism  like  this  will  go  far  to  clear  up  the 
great  practical  difficulty  we  are  considering.  The 
question  disappears  in  one  form,  it  is  true,  but  only 
to  come  up  in  another.  In  a  sharp  collision  of 
opinions  and  interests,  of  rights  and  duties,  of  recip- 
rocal benefits  and  mutual  obligations,  may  not  my 
duty  itself  become  changed  ?  In  such  an  emergency, 
and  in  order  to  meet  and  satisfy  the  new  responsi- 
bilities growing  out  of  it,  may  it  not  be  proper  for 
me  to  deviate  from  the  ordinary  rules  of  human  con- 
duct, on  the  ground,  not  that  it  is  a  deviation  from 
duty,  but  that  duty  requires  the  deviation  ?  May  I 
not  in  certain   circumstances  become   a  party  to  a 


COMPROMISES.  279 

compromise,  even  as  regards  great  moral  issues,  on 
the  ground,  not  that  the  compromise  will  justify 
me  in  giving  up  my  duty,  but  that  duty  calls  upon 
me  to  make  the  compromise  ? 

Let  me  suppose  a  case.  A  community,  bound  to- 
gether by  a  multitude  of  reciprocal  affections,  inter- 
ests, and  obligations,  fall  into  irreconcilable  difference 
respecting  a  single  question,  and  that  a  moral  one. 
What  are  they  to  do  ? 

Some  may  think  to  cut  the  matter  short  by  insist- 
ing that  the  party  which  is  right  ought  not  to  give 
up,  ought  not  to  meet  the  other  half-way,  ought  not 
to  make  the  smallest  concessions.  And  this  is  true, 
supposing  it  to  be  known  and  conceded  which  party 
is  right ;  but  unhappily  this  is  not  a  conceded  point ; 
it  is  the  very  point  in  dispute.  The  question  is  not, 
what  the  party  shall  do  which  is  right,  but  what  the 
party  shall  do  which  thinks  itself  right.  And  if  you 
still  answer,  "  Not  concede  one  jot  nor  tittle,"  then 
you  have  no  ground  of  complaint  against  your  op- 
ponents for  not  conceding  one  jot  nor  tittle  to  you, 
for  they  also  think  themselves  right.  If  it  should 
be  objected  that  this  is  assuming  too  much ;  that  we 
have  no  right  to  take  it  for  granted  that  both  parties 
are  equally  sincere  in  their  pretensions,  I  reply :  Per- 
haps not.  But  which  party  are  you  going  to  set 
down  as  insincere,  or  as  less  sincere.  If,  as  usually 
happens,  both  parties  claim  to  be  right,  and  give  the 


280  COMPROMISES. 

same  evidence  of  sincerity,  is  it  not  plain  that  we 
must  regard  both  as  sincere,  or  neither  ? 

Still  there  are  those  who  will  recur  to  the  argu- 
ment that  our  duty  is  determined  by  what  we  think, 
and  not  by  what  others  think,  and  therefore  that, 
in  a  moral  view,  there  is  no  substantial  distinction 
between  what  we  think  to  be  our  duty  and  what  is 
our  duty.  What  we  think  to  be  our  duty  is  duty 
for  us ;  what  we  think  to  be  the  right  course  is  the 
right  course  for  us. 

But  here,  again,  the  conclusion  is  broader,  or,  at 
any  rate,  more  unqualified,  than  the  premises  will 
warrant.  I  do  not  deny  that  mistake  extenuates, 
and  sometimes,  perhaps,  excuses  wrong-doing ;  but 
it  does  this  only  on  one  condition ;  namely,  that  we 
have  not  wilfully  shut  our  eyes  on  important  and  ob- 
vious facts  in  the  case.  Now  in  the  case  under  consid- 
eration two  of  the  most  important  and  most  obvious 
facts  are  these :  first,  that  we  ourselves  are  fallible  ; 
and,  secondly,  that  others,  no  more  fallible  than  we 
are,  have  come  to  a  different  conclusion.  So  far 
all  must  be  agreed.  If,  therefore,  we  persist  in  shut- 
ting our  eyes  on  these  important  and  obvious  and 
admitted  facts,  that  is  to  say,  pay  no  regard  to  the 
judgment  and  the  consciences  of  others,  but  proceed 
to  act  on  our  own  as  if  we  were  infallible,  when  we 
know  we  are  not,  the  mistake,  if  we  fall  into  one, 
does  not  make  wrong  to  be  right  even  for  us ;  nay, 


COMPEOMISES.  281 

is  no  excuse  for  the  wrong.  It  is  not  mistake,  prop- 
erly so  called,  but  obstinacy ;  and  whatever  may  be 
said  of  mistake,  all,  I  presume,  will  agree  that  obsti- 
nacy is  no  excuse  for  moral  delinquency  of  any  kind. 

Another  ground  sometimes  taken  is,  that  where 
two  parties  are  at  variance,  only  one  can  be  right; 
and  consequently  that  a  compromise  supposes  a  de- 
parture from  the  right  course  on  one  side  or  the  other. 
This,  however,  does  not  follow.  I  admit  that  where 
two  parties  are  at  variance,  both  cannot  be  right ; 
but  it  does  not  follow  that  either  is  so,  that  is,  wholly 
right.  Both  parties  cannot  be  right,  but  both  parties 
may  be  wrong  ;  at  least  more  or  less  so.  Indeed, 
where  the  question  at  issue  is  a  large  and  compli- 
cated one,  having  a  multitude  of  connections  and 
bearings,  as  is  commonly  the  case  in  civil  and  relig- 
ious dissensions,  it  is  much  more  reasonable  to  sup- 
pose that  each  party  is  partly  right  and  partly  wrong. 
And  if  so,  it  would  seem  that  each  party  has  some- 
thing of  wrong  to  give  up,  and  the  compromise  that 
should  consist  of  mutual  concessions  of  this  sort 
would  evidently  result,  not  in  a  departure  from 
right  on  either  side,  but  in  an  approximation  to  right 
on  both  sides. 

I  have  now  glanced  at  some  of  the  abstract  and 
speculative  objections  to  all  moral  compromises,  as 
such.  Others  are  disposed  to  take  a  more  practical 
view  of  the  subject.     They  will  tell  you  that  party 


282  COMPROMISES. 

dijBferences  are  not  to  be  settled  by  compromise,  but 
by  vote.  The  party  which  can  command  the  largest 
number  of  votes  has  a  right  to  have  its  own  way  in 
everything,  on  the  ground  that  the  majority  have  a 
right  to  govern.  On  this  ground,  some  would  seem 
to  argue  that  the  majority  have  a  right  to  impose 
on  the  whole  country  their  peculiar  system  not  only 
of  political  expediency,  but  of  political  morals,  to 
which  the  minority  must  submit  as  they  best  can. 

But  is  not  this  the  essence  of  tyranny,  and  not  the 
less  so  because  it  is  in  the  hands  of  many,  and  not 
of  one  or  a  few  ?     What  signifies  it  to  the  oppressed 
minority,  the   oppression   being  the  same,   that   the 
name  of  the  oppressor  is  Legion  ?     Not  that  I  mean 
to  call  in  question  the   doctrine   that   the   majority 
have  a  right  to  govern,  —  that  is,  to  govern  justly. 
But  to  govern  justly  the  majority  must  consider  the 
just  claims  of  the   minority,   and,   above   all,   those 
claims  which  are  founded  on  a  difference  of  moral 
conviction,   and   make    concessions   to   them ;    as   is 
actually  done  by  our  own  and  other  governments  in 
the  case  of  the  Quakers.     Yet  these  concessions  are 
of  the   nature   of  a   compromise.      Accordingly  the 
right  of  the  majority  to  govern  does  not  exclude  the 
necessity  of  compromise.     The  utmost  extent  of  that 
right  consists  in  the  right  to  fix  for  the  time  being 
the  terms  of  the  compromise  ;  and  this  they  have  no 
right   to   do  capriciously,  or  with  a  single  view   to 


COMPROMISES.  283 

their  own  party  maxims  and  preferences,  but  as  they 
honestly  think  an  impartial  umpire  would  approve, 
in  view  of  all  the  circumstances.  If  you  say  that 
nothing  is  due  to  the  dissenting  consciences  of  the 
minority,  you  have  no  right  to  find  fault  with  the 
Spanish  Inquisition.  Often,  also,  the  practical  ques- 
tion is,  not  what  either  party  would  have  things  be 
as  a  finality,  or  if  they  were  to  begin  anew,  but  what, 
on  the  whole,  ought  to  be  done  "  in  the  present 
distress." 

The  consideration  in  this  connection  which  prob- 
ably has  the  greatest  weight  with  tender  consciences 
is,  that  by  compromising  with  what  we  think  to  be 
evil,  we  make  ourselves,  to  a  certain  extent,  parties 
to  it.  What  we  insist  upon  doing,  at  any  rate,  is 
simply  to  wash  our  own  hands  from  all  respon- 
sibility in  the  matter.  But  is  this  all  that  is  re- 
quired ?  Our  responsibility  does  not  consist  in  free- 
ing ourselves  from  the  responsibility,  but  in  fulfilling 
the  responsibility  by  adopting  such  measures  as  we 
honestly  believe  will  be  most  likely  to  abate  the 
evil,  and  in  the  right  way.  A  mere  solicitude  to 
save  ourselves  from  responsibility  would  indicate  but 
too  clearly,  that  the  motive  which  in  fact  deter- 
mines us  is  not  the  philanthropy  of  which  we  boast, 
nor  yet  the  justice  to  which  we  appeal,  but  a  selfish 
desire  to  escape  suffering  in  our  own  persons,  here 
or  hereafter.     When  men  talk  about  "  washing  their 


284  COMPROMISES. 

hands"  from  all  participation  in  a  supposed  wrong, 
without  doing  anything,  or  attempting  to  do  anything, 
to  remove  or  remedy  or  lessen  the  wrong,  it  always 
reminds  me  of  Pilate's  conduct  at  the  trial  of  Jesus. 

I  have  spoken  of  compromises  in  general;  not  of 
any  particular  compromise.  I  have  endeavored  to 
treat  the  question  dispassionately  as  a  purely  abstract 
one,  coming  up  in  the  study  of  Christian  ethics.  I 
am  aware  that  there  is  often  less  difficulty  in  lay- 
ing down  general  principles  than  in  applying  them 
with  the  limitations  and  qualifications  which  the 
circumstances  of  the  case  require.  Still  something 
is  gained  by  clearly  apprehending  the  principles, — 
the  applications  must  he  left  to  the  occasion  as  it 
arises ;  and  let  me  add,  that  a  right  application  of 
the  principles  in  the  most  perplexing  circumstances 
will  mainly  depend,  not  on  a  morbid  sensitiveness 
to  the  question  at  issue,  nor  yet  on  casuistical 
subtlety,  but  on  downright  honesty  of  purpose,  a 
sound  understanding,  and  a  truly  generous  and 
magnanimous  spirit.  It  is  easy  to  conceive  of  com- 
promises from  which  we  should  turn  away,  as  from 
a  compact  with  the  Evil  One.  Nevertheless,  with- 
out a  spirit  of  mutual  concession  in  constant  exer- 
cise it  is  plain  that  no  family,  no  neighborhood, 
no  community,  can  subsist  for  a  single  day  in 
tolerable  comfort  and  quiet. 

Undoubtedly   there    is    danger  that   our    compro- 


COMPROMISES.  285 

mises  will  lose  all  moral  significance  by  originating 
in  low,  selfish,  and  worldly  inducements.     Undoubt- 
edly there  is  danger  that  we  may  be  ready  to  con- 
cede  truth   and  justice  and  humanity,  in  order  to 
save  our  interests  and  our  pleasures  ;  on  the  ground 
that  truth  and  justice  and  humanity  are  mere  senti- 
ments, mere  prejudices,  while  interest  and  pleasure 
are  real  and  substantial  things.     Undoubtedly  there 
is    danger    that,    while    we    talk    about    exercising 
mutual   forbearance,   and   becoming   "  all   things   to 
all  men,"  as  the  Gospel  requires,  we   may  all  the 
time  be  acting  from  motives  which  the  Gospel  dis- 
owns and  condemns.     The  existence  and  prevalence 
among  us  of  compromises  of  this  description  would 
be  one  of  the  most  alarming  symptoms  of  national 
decay   and   ruin :    which   may    God  avert !     At  the 
same  time,  the  spirit  of  compromise^  righteously  car- 
ried out,  as  it  gave  birth  to  our  Union,  is  absolutely 
indispensable  to  its  continuance.      Let  not  the  eye 
say  unto  the  hand,  "  I  have  no  need  of  thee  ;  "  nor 
again,  the  head  to  the  feet,   "  I  have   no   need  of 
you  ;  "   but  let  the  whole  body,  fitly  joined  together, 
and  compacted  by  that  which  every  joint  supplieth, 
according  to   efiectual   working  in   the   measure   of 
every    part,    make   increase    of  the    body   unto   the 
edification  of  the  whole  in  love. 


CONDITIONS  OF   SUCCESS    IN   LIFE.* 

I  RETURNED,  AND  SAW  UNDER  THE  SUN  THAT  THE  RACE  IS  NOT 
TO  THE  SWIFT,  NOR  THE  BATTLE  TO  THE  STRONG,  NEITHER  YET 
BREAD  TO  THE  WISE,  NOR  YET  RICHES  TO  MEN  OF  UNDERSTAND- 
ING, NOR  YET  FAVOR  TO  MEN  OF  SKILL;  BUT  TIME  AND  CHANCE 
HAPPENETH    TO  THEM   ALL.  —  EcclesiasteS   ix.  11. 

This  is  one  of  those  gloomy  and  despondent  views 
of  human  life  in  which  Ecclesiastes  abounds.  At 
first  sight  it  would  seem  to  inculcate  the  extreme 
doctrine,  that  success  is  wholly  dependent  on  circum- 
stances, and  even  on  accidental  circumstances,  and 
not  at  all  on  ourselves.  Thus  understood,  I  need 
not  say,  it  shocks  our  sense  of  justice,  and  contradicts 
our  general  experience.  Moreover,  we  feel  that  if 
received  in  this  sense,  especially  by  those  just  entering 
into  life,  its  only  effect  must  be  to  discourage  effort, 
to  lower  nien's  aims,  and  to  subvert  the  foundations 
of  a  just  self-reliance.  What  the  writer  meant  to 
inculcate  was  probably  this  :  as  it  is  not  for  man  to 

*  It  is  customary  to  deliver  a  Farewell  Discourse  in  the  College 
Chapel  to  the  Senior  Class,  on  the  Sunday  before  they  leave.  This 
and  the  two  following  sermons  were  preached  on  those  occasions. 


CONDITIONS   OF   SUCCESS.  287 

read  the  future,  or  direct  his  steps,  he  must  be  con- 
tent with  doing  as  well  as  he  can,  and  leave  the  rest 
to  that  Providence  which  shapes  and  determines  all 
events. 

Understand  the  text,  however,  as  we  may,  it  very 
naturally  introduces  the  question  how  far  a  man's 
success  in  life,  including  his  character  as  well  as 
his  outward  condition,  is  to  be  regarded  as  Ms  own 
work  ? 

This  is  not  a  subject  on  which  to  advance  hasty 
or  extreme  opinions.  I  am  willing  to  start  with  the 
concession,  that  there  is  a  large  pre-ordained  element 
in  the  life  of  every  individual,  and  a  still  larger  one 
in  the  life  of  every  community.  It  certainly  does  not 
depend  on  the  man  himself  in  what  place  or  condi- 
tion he  is  horn,  —  whether  in  savage  or  civiUzed  life, 
whether  in  a  Christian  or  pagan  country,  whether 
in  the  midst  of  abundance,  or  in  the  midst  of  want, 
whether  in  a  virtuous  and  happy  home,  or  in  the 
haunts  of  vice  ;  and  we  must  be  beside  ourselves  not 
to  see  that  these  things  have  much  to  do  in  making 
a  man  what  he  becomes.  Everybody  ascribes  a  great 
deal,  and  the  older  we  grow  I  believe  we  generally 
ascribe  more  and  more,  to  differences  of  race,  to  hered- 
itary or  constitutional  aptitudes  and  tendencies,  to  the 
power  of  education,  example,  custom,  and  even  to 
what  the  world  calls  good  or  bad  fortune.  So  Lord 
Bacon:    "I   did   ever   hold   it   for    an   insolent  and 


288  CONDITIONS   OF   SUCCESS. 

unlucky  saying,  *  Every  man  maketh  his  own  for- 
tune,' except  it  be  uttered  only  as  an  hortative  or 
spur  to  correct  sloth.  For  otherwise,  if  it  be  believed 
as  it  soundeth,  and  that  a  man  entereth  into  an  high 
imagination,  that  he  can  compass  and  fatliom  all  ac- 
cidents, and  ascribeth  all  successes  to  his  drifts  and 
reaches,  and  the  contrary  to  his  errors  and  slippings, 
it  is  commonly  seen  that  the  evening  fortune  of  that 
man  is  not  so  prosperous,  as  of  him  that,  without 
slackening  of  his  industry,  attributeth  much  to  felicity 
and  providence  above  him."  * 

Many  are  tempted  to  go  further.  "  We  talk,"  tliey 
will  say,  "  about  what  we  are  going  to  do,  or  be  ;  after 
all,  however,  it  does  not  depend  on  ourselves.  We  are, 
to  a  great  extent  at  least,  the  creatures  of  circum- 
stances,—  predetermined,  inexorable.  The  key-note 
to  almost  every  man's  life  is  pitched,  long  before  he 
can  properly  be  said  to  have  had  anything  to  do  with 
it.  We  do  not  make  ourselves,  we  find  ourselves : 
we  have  to  take  ourselves  as  we  are,  and  make  the 
best  of  it.  We  think  it  of  great  moment  to  be  Chris- 
tians ;  but  if  a  man  is  born  in  Constantinople,  or 
Pekin,  or  Timbuctoo,  what  likelihood,  we  had  almost 
said  what  possibility,  is  there  that  he  will  become 
one  ?     Take  the  inmates  of  a  penitentiary,  —  if  you 


*  A  Discourse   touching  Helps  for  the   Intellectual  Powers.     Works 
(Montagu's  Ed.),  Vol.  I.  p.  339. 


CONDITIONS   OF   SUCCESS.  289 

could  know  all  their  antecedents,  you  would  not 
wonder,  in  respect  to  many  of  them,  that  they  are 
there.  You  may  say,  that  a  strong  will  sometimes 
triumphs  over  the  most  formidable  obstacles  of  educa- 
tion and  physical  condition.  And  so  it  does  ;  but 
what  is  a  man  to  do,  who  is  so  unfortunate  as  not 
to  have  a  strong  will  ?  we  do  not  deny  that  the  mind 
has  great  influence  over  the  body  ;  we  only  say,  in  re- 
ply, that  the  body  has  great  influence  over  the  mind, 
and  that  the  influence  begins  on  this  side.  A  single 
drop  of  blood  in  the  wrong  place  makes  all  the  difler- 
ence  between  a  philosopher  and  a  maniac." 

But  enough  of  this.  Very  little  practical  wisdom 
is  ever  gathered  from  the  consideration  of  supposed 
and  extreme  cases.  It  is  not  because  the  state- 
ments themselves  are  untrue,  but  because  they  are 
inapplicable,  at  least  in  an  unqualified  form,  to  our 
own  condition  and  prospects,  or  to  what  may  be 
termed  the  average  of  human  life.  A  larger  survey 
and  juster  appreciation  of  things  will  convince  us 
that  there  is  nothing  in  "  the  doctrine  of  circum- 
stances," rightly  understood,  to  discourage  effort  or 
destroy  a  proper  degree  of  self-reliance,  especially 
where  this  self-reliance  recognizes  a  Divine  support, 
holding  that,  in  some  mysterious  way,  it  is  "  God 
which  worketh  in  us  both^to  will  and  to  do." 

For,  in  the  first  place,  if  you  say,  it  is  the  cir- 
cumstances which  make  the  man,  you  must  also  ad- 

13  s 


290  CONDITIONS   OF   SUCCESS. 

mit  at  the  same  time,  that  it  is  the  man  who  often 
makes,  and  can  always  modify,  the  circumstances. 
There  would  seem  to  be  no  room  for  a  real  differ- 
ence of  opinion  here.  All  agree  that  some  of  the 
circumstances  materially  affecting  our  condition  and 
progress  are  determined  for  us,  and  not  by  us.  It 
is  so,  for  example,  as  regards  the  place  of  our 
birth,  the  form  of  society,  government,  or  religion 
under  which  we  are  brought  up,  whether  we  are 
born  with  a  strong  and  healthy  constitution,  or 
with  a  feeble  and  sickly  one,  what  are  our  natural 
abilities,  and  what  our  natural  temperament.  Even 
in  regard  to  such  circumstances,  however,  it  would 
be  idle  to  pretend  that  we  cannot  alter  or  modify 
them  in  any  manner  or  degree.  In  point  of  fact 
men  are  doing  this  very  thing  every  day,  and  every 
hour.  Look  where  you  will,  and  you  cannot  help 
seeing  that  the  bulk  of  mankind  are  doing  more  or 
less  to  improve  their  natural  advantages,  and  to 
correct  or  guard  against  their  natural  disadvantages, 
and  with  more  or  less  success. 

These  remarks  apply  especially  to  those  circum- 
stances which  have  most  to  do  in  making  the  differ- 
ences existing  between  individuals  belonging  to  the 
same  class,  living  under  the  same  laws,  professing 
the  same  creed,  and  sharing  in  the  same  measure 
of  general  civilization.  And  this,  let  me  say  in 
passing,    is    the    only    aspect   of   the    subject   under 


CONDITIONS   OF   SUCCESS.  291 

which  it  is  of  much  practical  moment  to  you  or 
me.  With  us  the  question  is  not,  whether  we 
shall  be  civilized  men,  or  savages,  for  that  point  is 
already  settled,  —  we  are  civilized  men,  —  but  what 
sort  of  civilized  men  we  shall  be.  So  likewise  as 
regards  religion,  the  great  question,  with  us  at  least, 
is  not,  whether  we  shall  be  Christians  or  Moham- 
medans, for  that  again  is  a  settled  point :  we  are 
Christians,  at  least  ill  the  sense  of  belonging  to 
Christendom ;  the  only  question  still  at  issue  being, 
what  sort  of  Christians  we  shall  become.  Granting, 
therefore,  that  we  are  Christians  and  not  Mohamme- 
dans merely  because  we  were  born  and  brought  up 
in  a  Christian  country,  how  happens  it,  I  still  ask, 
that  one  is  a  better  and  happier  Christian  than  an- 
other ?  Is  it  not,  in  great  measure,  because  he 
takes  more  pains  to  inform  his  mind,  to  subdue  his 
passions,  to  regulate  his  habits  ?  because  he  selects 
better  companions  and  chooses  to  follow  better  coun- 
sels ?  because  he  takes  care  to  surround  himself 
with  better  means,  and  seeks  out  better  opportu- 
nities, of  self-improvement,  and  a  better  field  of  labor 
and  usefulness  ? 

I  know  how  slow  men  are  to  give  up  their  the- 
ories. Probably  many  will  still  insist  that  the  whole 
is  nevertheless  resolvable  into  the  efiect  of  circum- 
stances. If  a  man  is  any  better  or  happier  than 
the  multitude  immediately  around  him,  it  must  be 


292  CONDITIONS  OF  SUCCESS. 

because,  though  his  general  circumstances  have  been 
the  same  with  theirs,  he  has  somehow  or  other 
come  under  the  influence  of  better  special  circum- 
stances. Be  it  so.  I  only  ask  you  to  consider  to 
how  great  an  extent  these  better  special  circum- 
stances are  of  his  own  choosing,  of  his  own  mould- 
ing, and  often  of  his  own  creating.  The  general 
circumstances  determining  the  class  or  order  to 
which  we  shall  belong  may,  and  often  do,  originate 
in  what  others  have  done  for  us  ;  but  the  special 
circumstances,  determining  our  relative  character 
and  condition  as  individuals  of  that  class  or  order, 
are  almost  always  our  own  work.  For  instance, 
that  we  belong  to  the  educated  class  is  probably 
owing,  in  a  majority  of  cases,  to  our  parents  ;  but 
whether  we,  as  individuals,  are  to  be  a  credit  or  a 
disgrace  to  that  class,  is  left  to  depend  almost 
wholly  on  ourselves. 

There  is  also  another  train  of  thought,  which,  if 
followed  out,  leads  to  the  same  general  conclusion. 
The  influence  of  circumstances,  however  important 
and  indispensable  must  not  be  regarded  as  annihi- 
lating, nor  even  as  necessarily  limiting  or  abridging, 
human  power.  On  the  contrary,  this  very  influence 
is  continually  resorted  to  as  an  instrument  of  hu- 
man power,  and  used  as  a  means  of  extending  it. 
True,  a  portion  of  our  circumstances  are  pre-deter- 
mined,  imposed,  inevitable  ;  but  it  is  also  true  that 


CONDITIONS   OF   SUCCESS.  293 

another  portion  of  them  are  variable,  subject  more 
or  less  to  our  control,  to  be  shaped,  rearranged,  and 
directed  as  we  see  fit.       In  this  way  we  can,  if  we 
see  fit,  take  one  set  of  circumstances  and  play  them 
ofi*  against  another,  so  as  to  neutralize,  or  essentially 
to  modify,  the  effects   even  of  those    circumstances 
which  can  neither  be  prevented  nor  altered  in  them- 
selves.    To  say  that  we  can  do  this  is  not  enough ; 
we  are  doing  it  continually.      Every  time  the  agri- 
culturist changes  his  mode  of  tillage,  every  time  the 
physician   sits   down  to   write   a  prescription,   every 
time    the    statesman   proposes   the    enactment   of  a 
new   law,   every   time    the   philanthropist    founds   a 
new  institution  of  mercy  or  beneficence,  —  what  is 
it  but  playing  off  one  set  of  circumstances  against 
another,  that  the  whole  may  be  brought  under  hu- 
man  control?     Wliat,   indeed,  is   civilization  itself 
but  the  result  of  a  succession  of  triumphs  effected 
by   such   means,  —  triumphs   of  mind   over   matter, 
of  man  over  nature  !    The  best  interests  of  a  savage 
tribe,  and  sometimes  its  very  existence,  are  put  in 
jeopardy  by  the  ill  success  of  a  single  hunting  party, 
by  the  accidental  failure  of  a  single  natural  produc- 
tion, by  the  unwonted  rigor  of  a  single  winter, — 
contingencies  which  it  has  neither  the  skill  to  foresee 
nor  the  means  to  provide  against.     But  in  civilized 
communities   it  is   not   so.      Every   step   in   science 
and    the    arts,    every    step   in    education    and    civil 


294  CONDITIONS   OF  SUCCESS. 

government,  is  a  step  in  the  direction  of  rescuing 
life  and  society  from  the  dominion  of  nature  and 
chance,  and  bringing  the  whole  under  human  calcu- 
lation and  control,  and  this,  too,  by  making  a  wise 
use  of  circumstances. 

It  would  do  something  to  save  theorists  from  con- 
fusion and  mistake  in  speaking  of  the  power  of  cir- 
cumstances, if  they  would  only  bear  in  mind  how 
much  is  included  under  that  familiar  term.  If  you 
say  that  man  is  the  creature  of  circumstances,  it  must 
be  with  the  understanding,  that  the  greatest  and  most 
effective  of  these  circumstances  is  the  man  himself. 
And  by  the  man  himself  I  here  mean  not  merely 
his  physical  constitution,  including  his  brain  and 
nervous  temperament,  and  his  innate  aptitudes  and 
predispositions,  but  also  the  habits  he  has  contracted, 
the  acquisitions  he  has  made,  even  his  humors  and 
caprices,  —  in  short,  whatever  he  is,  or  has  become, 
at  any  given  moment.  This,  I  hardly  need  say,  is 
one  of  the  circumstances,  under  the  influence  of 
which  he  is  called  to  act,  and  beyond  all  question 
the  greatest  and  most  effective  of  them  all  in  its 
bearings  on  his  present  conduct  and  his  future  pros- 
pects. Now  will  any  one  seriously  pretend  that  men 
have  nothing  to  do  in  determining  what  their  habits 
and  acquisitions  and  tempers  shall  be  ?  Is  there  no 
such  thing  as  self-culture  ?  If  not,  why  are  we  here  ? 
Why  this  vast,  complicated,  and  expensive  apparatus 


CONDITIONS   OF   SUCCESS.  295 

of  churches  and  schools  and  colleges,  of  libraries, 
museums,  and  laboratories  ?  And  do  not  think  that 
in  thus  referring  to  the  means  of  education  I  have  for- 
gotten my  argument,  which  is  to  show,  not  what  can 
be  done /or  men,  but  what  men  can  do /or  themselves. 
It  is  a  superficial  view  of  things  which  leads  to  the 
distinction  between  education  and  self-education.  In 
point  of  fact,  all  education  is  self-education,  the  only 
difference  being,  that  education  in  churches  and 
schools  and  colleges,  and  amidst  libraries,  museums, 
and  laboratories,  is  self-education  under  the  best  ad- 
vantages. 

In  making  so  much  to  depend  on  ourselves,  not- 
withstanding the  important  part  which  accident  and 
external  necessity  play  in  human  life,  I  trust  I  shall 
not  be  suspected  of  meaning  to  involve  myself  or 
you  in  the  perplexities  of  the  old  metaphysical  puzzle 
about  free-agency,  the  liberty  of  indifference  and  abso- 
lute self-determination.  Let  those  who  have  nothing 
better  to  do  continue  to  sharpen  their  speculative 
faculties  on  that  insoluble  problem ;  my  aim  in  this 
discourse  is  wholly  practical.  No  sensible  person  de- 
nies or  questions  the  power  of  circumstances.  It  is 
not  pretended  that  you  or  I  can  do  substantial  and 
lasting  good  to  ourselves  or  others,  simply  by  willing' 
it,  or  by  merely  saying  the  word.  Change  of  char- 
acter is  a  vital  process  ;  we  have  grown  into  our 
present  set  of  habits,  and  in  order  to  change  them, 


296  CONDITIONS   OF   SUCCESS. 

we  must  grow  into  another  set  of  habits,  and  growth 
is  not  an  act  of  the  will;  —  it  is  the  slow  result  of 
influences,  as  well  from  without  as  from  within.  We 
must  avail  ourselves  of  the  proper  occasions,  instru- 
mentalities, circumstances.  To  argue,  however,  that 
what  we  do  by  such  means  we  cannot  be  said  to 
do  at  all,  because  we  do  it  through  them,  is  a  mere 
abuse  of  language,  an  affront  to  the  practical  under- 
standing of  mankind. 

The  doctrine  of  circumstances  here  laid  down  ex- 
tends, with  some  obvious  qualifications,  to  heavenly 
things  and  the  spiritual  life.  That  we  have  the  means 
of  "  the  great  salvation "  is  wholly  owing  to  the 
Divine  condescension  and  mercy,  and  not  to  any 
merits  or  any  exertions  on  our  own  part ;  but  we  do 
have  them.  They  are  not  to  be  given ;  they  have  been 
given.  The  Scriptures,  the  Church,  the  sacraments, 
faith,  prayer,  the  example  of  holy  men,  doing  good 
in  the  name  of  Christ,  —  these  are  the  acts  and  influ- 
ences by  which  men  are  trained  for  heaven.  And 
they  are  open  to  all.  They  are  not  forced  on  this 
one  or  that  one,  on  you  or  me,  but  they  are  open  to 
all.  Who  will  say,  that  it  does  not  depend  on  him- 
self whether  he  avails  himself  of  them  or  not,  and 
in  what  spirit  he  avails  himself  of  them,  and  there- 
fore to  what  effect  ?  I  am  recommending  no  way 
of  salvation  but  that  which  the  Gospel  points  out: 
"And  the    Spirit  and   the  Bride  say.  Come.     And 


CONDITIONS   OF   SUCCESS.  297 

let  him  that  heareth  say,  Come.  And  let  him  that 
is  athirst  come :  wh(?<soever  will,  let  him  take  of 
the  water  of  life  freely." 

"  Whosoever  will "  !  In  what  better  terms  could 
the  Gospel  confirm  and  sanction  every  word  that  has 
here  been  spoken  ?  Let  us  not  go  about  to  imagine 
cases  of  moral  and  spiritual  destitution  and  despair. 
There  may  be  such  cases,  but  it  is  not  so  with  us. 
We  must  also  make  a  distinction  between  worldly 
success  and  acceptance  with  God.  Wliether  you  are 
to  be  rich  or  poor  depends  on  others,  as  well  as  you ; 
but  if  rich,  whether  you  are  to  be  a  good  rich  man, 
or  a  bad  rich  man,  and  if  poor,  whether  you  are  to 
be  a  good  poor  man,  or  a  bad  poor  man,  depends, 
under  God,  on  yourself  alone.  Even  with  each 
one  of  us,  I  do  not  mean  to  deny  that  there  is  still 
a  fearful  uncertainty  as  to  what  he  is  to  be  in  the 
sight  of  God  ;  but  I  insist  that  this  uncertainty  does 
not  come  in  between  the  will  and  the  act,  between 
the  will  and  the  success :  it  lies  behind  the  will. 
The  uncertainty  consists  in  this,  whether  we  shall 
will,  and  persevere  in  that  will,  or  not.  Where  there 
is  a  will,  there  is  a  way. 

Away,  then,  with  that  fatalism  which  makes  man 
the  creature  and  sport  of  circumstances  he  has  had 
no  voice  nor  influence  in  determining.  Never  for 
a  moment  believe  that  we  are  in  the  hands  and  at 
the  mercy  of  the  blind  forces  of  nature.     It  is  not 

13* 


298  CONDITIONS  OF  SUCCESS. 

religion,  it  is  atheism,  which  makes  nature  every- 
thing, and  man  nothing.  "  And  the  Lord  God  formed 
man  of  the  dust  of  the  ground,  and  breathed  into 
his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life ;  and  man  became  a  liv- 
ing' souL''^  That  "living  soul"  is  not  a  product  of 
nature,  nor  yet  one  of  the  many  forces  of  nature  : 
it  is  a  force  distinct  from  nature,  confronting  nature 
face  to  face,  and  often  in  direct  conflict  and  struggle 
with  nature.  In  this  conflict  and  struggle  the  secret 
of  the  soul's  strength  consists  in  believing,  in  feeling, 
that  its  strength  is  not  from  nature,  but  from  itself 
and  from  God.  "Where  this  faith,  this  feeling,  is  in- 
tense, even  error  and  sin  cannot  cripple  the  soul's 
invincible  energy ;  their  only  effect  will  be,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  conquerors  and  scourges  of  mankind,  to 
convert  what  would  otherwise  have  been  a  Divine 
into  a  Satanic  power,  —  terrible  even  in  its  apostasy 
and  perversion.  The  body,  as  it  is  formed  "  of  the 
dust  of  the  ground,"  belongs  to  nature,  and  is  sub- 
ject to  the  laws  of  nature,  acting  as  it  is  acted  on  ; 
but  the  soul,  the  inspiration  of  the  Almighty,  vindi- 
cates its  relationship  to  a  higher  order  of  existences 
by  being  essentially  self-active  and  free.  Self-activ- 
ity and  freedom,  however,  are  no  protection  against 
abuse  and  ruin.  To  be  able  to  look  forward  into  a 
dark  and  untried  future  without  presumption  and 
without  fear,  we  must  feel  and  know  that  "greater 
is  He  that  is  in  us,  than  he  that  is  in  the  world  ;  "  — • 


CONDITIONS  OF  SUCCESS.  299 

without  presumption,  because  always  ready  to  ex- 
claim, with  the  Apostle,  "  Yet  not  I,  but  the  grace  of 
God  which  was  with  me  ;  "  and  without  fear,  because 
always  prepared  to  take  up  the  testimony  of  the  same 
Apostle,  "  Not  that  I  speak  in  respect  to  want ;  for 
I  have  learned,  in  whatsoever  state  I  am,  therewith 
to  be  content.  I  know  both  how  to  be  abased,  and  I 
know  how  to  abound ;  everywhere,  and  in  all  things 
I  am  instructed,  both  to  be  full  and  to  be  hungry, 
both  to  abound  and  to  suffer  need.  I  can  do  all 
things  through  Christ  which  strengtheneth  me." 

Though  my  subject  is  a  general  one,  it  is  directly 
and  specially  applicable  to  those  who,  having  com- 
pleted their  College  course,  are  now  full  of  the 
thought  as  to  what  their  future  condition  shall  be. 
Life  is  before  them.  Is  that  life  a  lottery,  a  game 
of  chance  ?  Is  it  something  which  they  are  to  accept 
or  submit  to  as  a  fatality.  Or  is  it  something  which 
they  are  to  achieve  ?  My  young  friends,  it  is  nei- 
ther one  nor  the  other  exclusively ;  it  is  all  three, 
strangely  blended  together. 

It  is  to  no  purpose  to  shut  your  eyes  on  the  un- 
certamty  and  vicissitude  which  are  impressed  on  all 
earthly  things.  How  many  have  won  the  highest 
university  distinctions,  like  Kirke  White,  merely  to 
die  ?  How  many,  after  graduating  with  the  fairest 
promise,  have  lived  merely  to  disappoint  it,  and  this, 
too,  without  any  fault  of  their  own,  but  through  the 


800  CONDITIONS  OF  SUCCESS. 

fault  of  others,  or  some  infelicity  of  manner,  or  tem- 
per, or  intellect,  which  did  not  interfere  with  their 
success  here,  but  was  fatal  to  it  in  the  world  ?  It  is 
certain  that  "  the  race  is  not  always  to  the  swift, 
nor  the  battle  to  the  strong,  neither  yet  riches  to 
men  of  understanding,  nor  yet  favor  to  men  of  skill, 
but  time  and  chance  happeneth  to  them  all."  I  do 
not  say  this  to  damp  a  generous  enthusiasm,  or  to 
dispel,  if  I  could,  tlie  dreams  of  life  in  which  the 
young  are  apt  to  indulge.  I  honor,  I  revere  those 
dreams,  as  often  leading  to  their  own  fulfilment,  nay, 
as  coming  much  nearer  to  the  truth  of  what  life  ought 
to  be,  and  might  be,  than  the  vulgar  experience. 
But  this  I  say :  I  would  not  give  much  for  a  young 
man's  chance  of  eminence  whose  pillow  is  never  wet 
with  tears  at  the  thought  of  the  difficulties  to  be 
overcome.  And  besides,  to  minds  of  the  highest 
order,  there  is  a  strange  fascination  in  the  prospect 
of  hardship  and  difficulty  ;  they  like  life  the  better 
for  its  struggles  and  its  perils. 

My  friends,  whether  you  look  to  public  or  private 
life,  my  last  words  to  you  shall  be  words  of  encour- 
agement and  benediction.  The  final  cause  of  the 
chances  and  changes  of  this  mortal  life  is  to  evoke 
and  strengthen  that  principle  in  your  nature,  which 
is  superior  to  them  all.  Take  counsel  of  your  humil- 
ity ;  take  counsel  of  your  caution  ;  but  never  take 
counsel   of  your  fears.     More   than   half  of  the  ob- 


CONDITIONS   OF   SUCCESS.  301 

stacles  in  your  path  are  like  a  rotten  stump  in  the 
woods,  which  a  timid  man  takes  for  a  ghost,  and 
runs  away.  A  brave  man  walks  up  to  it,  and  finds 
it  to  be  what  it  is.  Never  be  appalled  and  unmanned 
by  what  is  said  about  risks,  and  difiiculties  and  com- 
petitions. Never  retreat  into  a  narrow  and  obscure 
walk,  with  its  only  one  chance  of  success  and  useful- 
ness, as  if  it  were  the  safer  for  that.  Push  forward,  if 
you  have  the  common  consciousness  of  ability,  into 
the  great  thoroughfares,  where,  though  a  hundred 
chances  of  success  and  usefulness  should  fail,  a  hun- 
dred chances  are  left.  And  take  with  you  our  best 
wishes  and  our  best  prayers  that  you  may  succeed 
in  the  best  things.  I  will  not  commend  you  to  the 
favor  of  the  world,  or  to  the  promise  of  your  own 
genius  and  activity,  for  all  these  may  prove  vain ;  but 
"  I  commend  you  to  God,  and  the  word  of  his  grace," 
who  alone  "  is  able  to  keep  you  from  falling,  and  to 
present  you  faultless  before  the  presence  of  his  glory 
with  exceeding  joy." 


ON  THE   CHOICE  OF  A  PROFESSION. 

LET   EVERT   MAN   ABIDE   IN   THE    SAME    CALLING    WHEREIN   HE   WAS 

CALLED.  —  1  Corinthians  vii.  20. 

In  seasons  of  unusual  religious  excitement  and 
earnestness  men  are  tempted  to  regard  all  political 
and  social  distinctions,  and  all  ordinary  secular  em- 
ployments, as  abolished  or  suspended.  So  it  was  in 
some  parts  of  Germany  at  the  breaking  out  of  the 
Protestant  Reformation.  So  it  was  in  the  Corinthian 
Church  at  the  first  planting  of  Christianity.  The 
Apostolic  injunction  addressed  to  that  church,  and 
recorded  in  the  text,  may  be  considered  as  directed 
generally  and  in  principle  against  a  twofold  form 
of  error  especially  prevalent  at  such  times. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  directed  against  the  error 
of  making  religion  a  business  or  profession  hy  itself^ 
leaving  us  no  time  or  thought  for  anything  else. 
Of  course,  I  do  not  mean  that  anything  whatever 
should  be  allowed  to  come  into  competition  with 
religion  ;  or  that  there  is  any  extravagance  in  the 
doctrine   which   teaches  that   religion  is   everything 


CHOICE   OF  A  PROFESSION.  303 

or  nothing.  Still  its  genius  and  office  are  entirely 
misapprehended,  if  we  suppose  it  requires  us  to  de- 
sert our  post  in  society ;  if  we  fancy  it  expects  us, 
or  calls  upon  us,  to  withdraw  from  the  world,  and 
give  ourselves  wholly  up  to  ascetic  practices  and 
devout  contemplation.  No  such  thing.  Religion  is 
the  sovereign  rule  of  life  ;  its  spirit  should  pervade 
and  transfigure  the  whole  of  life,  even  its  humblest 
offices ;  but  it  was  never  intended  to  be  a  life  by 
itself,  or  something  patched  upon  life.  If  you  ask, 
Who  is  the  best  Christian  ?  I  answer :  Not  he  who 
makes  the  loudest  professions  of  Christianity,  nor 
he  who  gives  the  most  time  to  thinking  about  it, 
nor  yet  he  who  best  understands  its  principles  ;  but 
he  who  best  succeeds  in  applying  these  principles 
to  his  daily  cares  and  duties,  and  in  filling  his 
place  in  society,  whatever  it  may  be,  in  a  Christ-^ 
like  spirit. 

Again,  the  injunction  in  the  text  is  directed  gen- 
erally, and  in  principle,  against  the  kindred  error 
of  supposing,  that  there  are  many  lawful  callings 
or  professions,  in  which  it  is  impossible  to  lead  a 
Christian  life.  More  difficult  it  may  be,  but  not 
impossible,  the  difficulty  only  enhancing  the  virtue 
which  has  strength  and  resolution  enough  to  over- 
come it.  The  military  profession,  a  life  in  camps, 
is  not  likely  to  be  recommended  as  particularly 
favorable   to   moral  and  religious   culture  ;  yet  this 


304  •  CHOICE   OF  A  PROFESSION. 

profession  has  contributed  not  a  few  illustrious  ex 
amples,  not  only  of  patriotism,  but  also  of  in- 
tegrity and  honor,  and  even  of  reverence  for  religion, 
and  of  a  Christian  detestation  of  war,  except  as  a  dire 
necessity  of  nations.  On  the  other  hand,  the  clerical 
profession,  to  those  who  are  fit  for  it,  is  generally 
thought,  in  a  moral  and  religious  point  of  view, 
to  promise  best  of  all ;  because  the  special  business 
and  object  of  the  calling  coincide  so  entirely  with 
what  ought  to  be  the  highest  business  and  object 
of  us  all.  But  here  also  there  is  difficulty  and 
drawback,  showing  that  the  difference  in  the  eligi- 
bility of  the  various  professions  on  moral  grounds 
is  not  so  great  as  is  often  supposed.  Where  the 
profession  is  religious,  the  danger  is  that  the  relig- 
ion will  become  professional.  Undoubtedly  it  is  our 
duty  to  feel  and  express  devout  emotions  ;  but  the 
trouble  with  the  clergyman  is,  that  he  is  sometimes 
called  upon  to  express  devout  emotions  whether  he 
feels  them  or  not.  Hence  his  danger  of  allowing 
his  very  earnestness  to  become  mechanical ;  of  sacri- 
ficing the  life  and  freshness,  and  sometimes  even 
the  entire  sincerity,  of  his  religious  experiences  to 
professional  repetition  and  routine.  Then,  too,  look- 
ing merely  at  the  effect  of  his  labors,  I  believe  it 
is  often  possible  for  a  layman  to  do  more  for  relig- 
ion than  a  clergyman,  from  the  very  fact  that  he 
cannot  be  suspected  of  a  professional  bias  or  bribe. 


CHOICE   OF  A  PROFESSION.  305 

We  arrive,  then,  at  the  conclusion  that  all  the 
great  professions  are  open  to  choice,  and  that  there 
is  nothing  in  any  one  of  them,  in  itself  considered, 
to  hinder  a  good  man  in  certain  cases  from  choosing 
it.  But  it  by  no  means  follows  that  all  professions 
are  equally  eligible  in  themselves  ;  much  less,  that 
all  are  equally  eligible  to  every  person,  and  under 
all  circumstances.  All  are  open  to  choice  ;  but  this 
does  not  exclude  occasion  for  choice,  or  necessity 
for  choice,  or  the  duty  of  making  a  wise  choice, 
as  being  that  on  which,  more  perhaps  than  on  any 
other  one  thing,  a  man's  usefulness  and  happiness 
will  depend.  Every  day  is  adding  to  the  impor- 
tance of  this  step,  by  multiplying  the  number  of 
the  professions ;  by  making  it  more  and  more  in- 
dispensable that  each  individual  should  confine  him- 
self to  a  single  profession  ;  and  also  on  account  of 
the  essential  changes  which  some  of  the  professions 
have  undergone.  For  these  reasons  many  of  the 
old  commonplaces  no  longer  apply,  making  it  neces- 
sary that  every  young  man,  on  reaching  the  period 
when  the  choice  can  no  longer  be  deferred,  should 
give  his  own  thoughts  to  the  subject  in  view  of  the 
new  demands  of  learning,  society,  and  the  times,  as 
well  as  of  his  own  capabilities  and  peculiar  aptitudes. 

Accordingly,  I  can  think  of  no  subject  more 
proper,  or  more  likely,  to  engage  your  attention  at 
this    time,    than    the    principles    and    considerations 


306  CHOICE  OF  A  PROFESSION. 

which  should  influence  and  determine  young  men 
in  the  choice  of  a  profession  at  the  present  day.  A 
considerahle  portion  of  our  society  will  not  worship 
with  us  again  :  they  have  completed  their  general 
education,  and  must  now  make  up  their  minds,  if 
they  have  not  made  them  up  already,  as  to  their 
special  calling  in  life.  Even  in  the  case  of  those 
who  have  made  up  their  minds  definitively  as  to 
what  they  are  to  do,  being  determined  perhaps  for 
the  most  part  by  prudential  considerations,  or  by 
personal  preference,  or  by  natural  bias,  it  will  still 
be  well  that  the  whole  subject  should  be  recon- 
sidered under  its  moral  and  religious  aspects. 

Let  me  begin  by  observing,  that  if  the  time  for 
choosing  a  profession  has  come,  it  is  not  well,  as  a 
general  rule,  to  postpone  it  by  unnecessary  delays. 
If  you  say,  your  mind  is  unsettled  ;  I  reply,  in  the 
first  place,  that  in  practical  matters  the  will  has 
more  to  do  in  settling  the  mind  than  arguments ; 
and,  secondly,  that  the  probable  effect  of  another 
year  spent  without  an  object  will  only  be  to  un- 
settle your  minds  still  more.  Perhaps,  however,  you 
are  bent  on  devoting  a  year  or  two  to  general 
reading,  or  foreign  travel,  as  a  means  of  enlarging 
and  expanding  your  minds.  This  sounds  well ;  but, 
in  point  of  fact,  general  reading  and  foreign  travel, 
under  such  circumstances,  are  much  more  likely  to 
dissipate   the   mind   than  to   enlarge   or   expand   it. 


CHOICE   OF   A  PROFESSION.  307 

Indeed,  what  considerable  advantage  can  there  be, 
and  I  may  even  add,  what  practical  interest,  in 
reading  or  travelling  without  any  particular  object 
in  view,  without  any  reason  why  we  should  con- 
sider one  thing  rather  than  another,  without  being 
able  to  turn  anything  to  immediate  account  by  see- 
ing how  it  bears  on  our  own  special  pursuits  ?  But 
you  may  have  another  motive  for  the  delay :  you 
may  think  to  avoid  in  this  way  the  error,  so  com- 
mon in  this  country,  of  hurrying  into  active  hfe 
without -due  preparation.  To  enter  on  the  practice 
of  any  profession  without  being  duly  prepared  for 
it  is,  I  admit,  a  great  error ;  but  this  is  a  reason 
for  beginning  the  preparation  as  soon  as  may  be  ; 
certainly  it  is  no  reason  for  unnecessary  delays. 
So  much  impressed  was  Dr.  Johnson  with  the  mis- 
chiefs of  hesitancy  and  fickleness  on  this  subject, 
that  he  is  half  inclined  to  recommend  that  every 
one's  calling  should  be  determined  by  his  parents 
or  guardian  ;  at  any  rate,  he  does  not  hesitate  to 
conclude,  "that  of  two  states  of  life  equally  con- 
sistent with  religion  and  virtue,  he  who  chooses 
earliest  chooses  best." 

Another  preliminary  suggestion  is,  that  in  choosing 
a  profession  we  should  take  care  not  to  allow  too 
much  weight  to  local  and  temporary  considerations ; 
—  considerations  which  will  have  no  bearing  on  our 
future  progress,  except  perhaps  to  narrow  and  limit 


308  CHOICE   OF  A  PEOFESSION. 

it.  I  suppose  there  are  those  who  can  give  no  better 
reason  for  being  in  one  profession  rather  than  another 
than  this ;  that  they  found  it  easier  to  get  into  it. 
But  certainly  our  success  and  happiness  are  to  de- 
pend, not  on  our  getting  into  a  profession,  but  on  our 
g;etting  on  in  it ;  that  is  to  say,  on  our  being  able  to 
fill  it  honorably  and  well.  I  know  the  common  ex- 
cuse. It  will  be  said,  that  we  are  often  placed  in 
circumstances  where  we  must  do,  not  as  we  would, 
but  as  we  can.  And  this  is  true.  But  certainly, 
as  regards  so  important  and  eventful  a  step  as  the 
choice  of  a  profession,  it  is  seldom  necessary  for  a 
young  man  in  this  country,  with  health  and  strength 
in  his  limbs,  and  courage  in  his  heart,  and  nobody 
dependent  on  him,  to  resort  to  such  an  excuse  for 
not  resolving  to  find  his  proper  place,  cost  what  it 
may.  We  talk  about  what  we  can  do,  and  what  we 
cannot ;  but,  after  all,  this  is,  for  the  most  part,  an 
arbitrary  distinction.  What  one  man  calls  impossible, 
another  man  calls  merely  difficult;  and,  with  minds 
which  are  made  of  the  right  sort  of  stuff,  difficulties 
do  not  repel  or  dishearten  ;  they  only  stimulate  to 
new  and  greater  efforts.  Do  you  still  object,  ''  But 
we  must  live  meanwhile  "  ?  I  reply,  in  the  first  place, 
that  this  does  not  necessarily  follow  :  there  are  many 
things  which  we  had  better  die  rather  than  do  or 
suffer.  And  besides,  suppose  we  must  live,  we  can 
live  on  bread  and  water ;   as   a  multitude  of  poor 


CHOICE   OF  A  PROFESSION.  309 

scholars  have  done  for  years,  and  afterwards  won 
for  themselves  a  brilliant  success,  an  imperishable 
renown.  Better,  a  thousand  times  better,  live  on 
bread  and  water  for  a  few  days,  or  a  few  months,  than 
sacrifice  the  prospects  of  a  whole  life. 

Hence  we  conclude,  that  every  young  man  owes 
it  to  himself,  at  any  cost  or  sacrifice  consistent  with 
virtue  and  religion,  to  find,  as  soon  as  may  be,  his 
proper  place  and  calling,  meaning  thereby  the  place 
and  calling  in  which,  with  his  education  and  abil- 
ities, he  is  most  likely  to  become  useful  and  happy. 

But  how  is  he  to  find  it  ?  that  is  the  great  question. 
I  answer  generally.  By  considering  what  he  was  made 
for,  taking  into  view,  at  tlie  same  time,  his  intellect- 
ual aptitudes,  and  his  moral  needs  and  dangers. 

As  regards  intellectual  or  mental  aptitudes,  or 
what  is  sometimes  called  the  natural  bent  of  one's 
genius,  two  extreme  opinions  have  found  supporters, 
which  seem  to  me  to  be  almost  equally  removed  from 
practical  wisdom.  The  first  is  that  of  those  who  con- 
tend that  a  strong  tendency  to  one  profession  rather 
than  to  another  is  to  be  considered  ;  but  only,  that  it 
may  be  crossed  and  overruled.  They  argue  thus : 
Our  highest  object  should  be,  not  professional  success 
and  eminence,  but  human  perfection,  which  sup- 
poses and  requires  balance  and  harmony  of  char- 
acter. Now  when  any  one  betrays  a  strong  proclivity 
to  a  particular  profession,  it  shows  that  some  parts 


310  CHOICE   OF   A   PEOFESSION. 

of  his  mind  are  unduly,  or  at  least  disproportionately 
developed,  while  others  are  kept  back ;  and,  there- 
fore, in  choosing  a  profession,  his  object  should  be 
to  find  one  which  will  tend  to  bring  out  the  latter, 
so  that  he  may  become  a  complete  and  perfect  man. 
Thus,  if  a  person  early  manifests  extraordinary  tal- 
ents for  business  and  affairs,  this  is  a  reason  why  he 
should  not  be,  by  profession,  a  man  of  business  and 
affairs,  for  he  is  enough  of  that  already :  he  ought 
rather  to  go  into  the  army  or  the  Church,  which 
will  have  the  effect  to  call  forth  his  latent  qualities. 

I  hardly  need  say  that  this  doctrine,  plausible  as 
it  may  seem  to  some  minds,  is  theoretically  false, 
and  practically  absurd.  It  is  theoretically  false ;  for, 
though  balance  and  harmony  of  character  enter  into 
the  theory  of  what  a  man  ought  to  be,  these  have 
nothing  to  do  with  an  equal,  or  even  with  a  propor- 
tionate development  of  his  faculties.  His  occupations 
may  be  wholly  mechanical,  for  example ;  but  it  does 
not  follow  that  his  character  will  be  either  one-sided, 
or  in  any  manner  distorted.  And  besides,  a  man  is 
not  the  whole  of  humanity  ;  neither  does  he  represent 
the  whole  of  humanity ;  neither  is  he  called  upon, 
even  in  theory,  to  embody  or  personate  the  whole 
of  this  humanity,  in  all  its  ideal  completeness  and 
proportions.  We  are  the  many  members  which  go 
to  make  up  the  one  body ;  and  it  is  enough  if  each 
member  does  its  appropriate  work,  and  does  it  well. 


CHOICE   OF  A  PROFESSION.  311 

Moreover,  to  pursue  the  course  recommended  above 
would  be  practically  absurd.  Every  man  would  do 
what  he  is  least  fitted  to  do ;  and  the  consequence 
would  be,  that  the  whole  work  of  life  would  be  done 
in  the  worst  possible  manner  and  under  the  greatest 
possible  disadvantages. 

Nor  is  this  all ;  for  the  subject  has  its  religious 
aspects.  When  we  refer  to  a  man's  profession  as 
being  his  vocation,  or  calling,  we  suppose  him  to  be 
called.  There  is  one  profession,  indeed,  that  of  the 
divine,  which  it  is  generally,  and,  as  I  conceive,  justly, 
thought  to  be  presumptuous  to  enter  without  being 
distinctly  and  emphatically  called,  and  called  of  God. 
But  how  called  ?  The  fancies  and  dreams  of  the 
enthusiast  have  nothing  to  do  with  a  sober  and'  prac- 
tical matter  of  this  kind.  Every  man  is  calmly  and 
impartially  to  consider  what  he  was  made  for,  what 
by  the  constitution  of  his  mind  and  character  he  is 
best  fitted  to  become,  and  to  look  upon  this  as  a 
call  from  God,  —  the  voice  of  God  speaking  in  his 
own  nature,  which,  when  distinct  and  emphatic,  he 
has  no  right  to  disregard. 

Often,  however,  and  I  suppose  I  may  say,  generally, 
the  call  is  not  distinct  and  emphatic,  at  least  as 
regards  most  professions ;  and  this  leads  me  to  notice 
the  other  of  the  two  extreme  opinions  referred  to 
above.  It  consists  in  supposing  that  every  man  has 
his  place,  and  that  everything  depends  on  his  finding 


312  CHOICE  OF  A  PROFESSION. 

that  particular  place,  a  mistake  here  being  final  and 
fatal.  No  such  thing.  We  are  not  born  with  adaptor 
tions,  but  with  adaptabilities ;  and  these  are  such  in 
most  men  that  they  can  fit  themselves  as  well,  or 
nearly  as  well,  for  one  as  another  of  several  profes- 
sions. Leaving  out  of  view  eminence  in  the  fine  arts, 
which  seems  to  require  at  the  start  a  peculiar  nervous 
organization,  I  do  not  believe  there  is  one  man  in  ten 
whom  nature  has  endowed  with  aptitudes  and  predis- 
positions so  special  and  marked  that  he  might  not 
succeed  perfectly  well  in  any  one  out  of  several  pur- 
suits. In  a  large  majority  of  cases  the  battle  of  life 
is  won,  not  by  natural,  but  by  personal  qualities  ; 
by  those  personal  qualities  which  invite  favor  and 
inspire  confidence  and  insure  courage  and  persist- 
ency in  whatever  is  undertaken.  If  any  of  you  are 
perplexed  and  in  trouble,  not  knowing  what  you  were 
made  for,  this  very  doubt  shows  that,  probably,  you 
were  not  made  for  anything  in  particular.  But  what 
follows  ?  Merely  that  your  success  in  life  will  depend 
much  less  on  mental  aptitudes,  or  what  is  called  bent 
of  genius,  than  on  what  lies  behind  all  this,  —  on 
strength  of  will,  power  of  self-control,  force  of  char- 
acter. These  will  do  more  and  better  for  you  than 
incline  you  to  a  particular  profession  :  they  will  make 
it  as  certain  as  anything  human  can  be,  that  you  will 
prosper,  whatever  may  be  your  profession. 

Even  taste  for  a  profession,  or  interest  in  it,  is  often 


CHOICE   OF  A  PKOFESSION.  813 

an  aftergrowth  ;  that  is  to  say,  not  only  acquired,  but 
acquired  after  the  profession  is  adopted  and  entered 
upon.     The  childish    preference   and   longing   for   a 
particular    profession,   sometimes    awakened   in    the 
young  in  consequence  of  hearing  it  continually  talked 
about,  or   of  hearing  themselves  continually    desig- 
nated for  it,  really  signifies   nothing,   and  generally 
ends  in  nothing.     To  play  with  a  pursuit,  to  amuse 
one's  self  with  it  in  the  spirit  of  an  amateur,  is  no 
evidence  of  a  radical  and  effective  bent  of  mind :  a 
man  must  be  ready  for  the  hard  work  necessary  to 
distinction  in  it,  or  that  distinction  is  not  for  him. 
A  proper  taste  for  a  particular  profession,  or  inter- 
est in  it,  depends,  for  the  most  part,  on  the  direc- 
tion which   curiosity  takes,   or    rather   on   the  path 
into  which  it  is   turned.     Now  this  curiosity,  espe- 
cially when  it  becomes  earnest  and  intense,  is  not 
born,  as  some  would  seem  to  imagine,  of  ignorance, 
but  of  knowledge.    Idiots  and  savages  who  know  com- 
paratively nothing,  are  also  found  to  be  equally  defi- 
cient in  a  desire  to  know.     It  is  because  we  know  so 
much  already,  that  we  pine  and  yearn  to  know  more  : 
the  problems  we  have  raised  haunt  us,  and  give  us  no 
rest  until  they  are  solved.     Thus  it  is,  that  in  pro- 
portion as  the  great  questions  and  uses  of  a  noble 
profession  break  on  the  mind,  the  mind,  if  it  is  of  the 
right  sort,  is  seized  with  a  passion  to  master  them,  and 
make  them  its  own.     And  this  love  of  one's  profes- 

14 


314  CHOICE   OF  A  PKOFESSION. 

sion,  which  is  generated  by  the  profession  itself,  is 
much  more  to  be  relied  on  than  any  antecedent 
and  supposed  natural  leaning ;  for  the  latter  makes  us 
love  a  profession  before  we  can  be  said  to  know  what 
it  is,  and  therefore  may  often  turn  out  to  be  a  love 
of  what  we  fancy  the  profession  to  be,  but  not  of  what 
it  is  in  reality,  or,  at  any  rate,  a  love  of  some  things 
about  a  profession,  but  not  of  the  profession  itself. 

Nay,  more.  The  most  genuine  and  thorough  devo- 
tion to  one's  chosen  work  is  sometimes  not  merely 
an  after,  but  also  a  slow  growth,  beginning  even  in 
positive  dislike.  "  I  have  heard  it  observed,"  says  a 
writer  of  excellent  judgment,  "  that  those  men  who 
have  risen  to  the  greatest  eminence  in  the  profes- 
sion of  law  have  been  in  general  such  as  had  at 
first  an  aversion  to  the  study.  The  reason  probably 
is,  that  to  a  mind  fond  of  general  principles  every 
study  must  be  at  first  disgusting  which  presents  to 
it  a  chaos  of  facts  apparently  unconnected  with  each 

other A  man  destitute  of  genius  may,  with 

little  effort,  treasure  up  in  his  memory  a  number 
of  particulars  which  he  refers  to  no  principle,  and 
from  which  he  deduces  no  conclusion ;  and  from 
his  facility  in  acquiring  this  stock  of  information,  may 
flatter  himself  with  the  belief  that  he  possesses  a 
natural  taste  for  this  or  that  branch  of  knowledge. 
But  they  who  are  really  destined  to  extend  the 
boundaries  of  science,  when  they  first  enter  on  new 


CHOICE   OF  A  PKOFESSION.  315 

pursuits,  feel  their  attention  distracted,  and  their 
memory  overloaded  with  facts  among  which  they  can 
trace  no  relation,  and  are  sometimes  apt  to  despair 
entirely  of  their  future  progress."  *  In  due  time, 
however,  their  superiority  appears,  and  arises  in  part 
from  that  very  dissatisfaction  which  they  at  first  ex- 
perienced, as  it  will  not  cease  to  stimulate  their  in- 
quiries until  they  penetrate  to  the  foundations  ;  until, 
underneath  this  confused  mass  of  facts,  they  can  dis- 
cern those  great  laws  of  order  and  harmony  which 
give  meaning  and  unity  to  the  whole,  and  which  have 
such  power  to  charm  and  hold  the  best  minds. 

I  have  dwelt  longer  than  I  intended  on  the  re- 
gard which  is  to  be  paid  to  bent  of  genius  and 
natural  taste  in  the  choice  of  a  profession.  Where 
these  are  distinctly  pronounced  they  are  generally 
decisive,  and  ought  to  be  so :  it  would  be  folly, 
I  had  almost  said  impiety,  to  disregard  them.  On 
the  other  hand,  where,  as  in  a  vast  majority  of 
cases,  they  are  not  distinctly  pronounced,  this  is  no 
ground  of  apprehension  that  a  wrong  choice  will  be 
made,  for  a  wrong  choice,  under  such  circumstances, 
is  hardly  possible :  the  very  occasion  of  the  hesitancy 
as  to  what  ought  to  be  done  is  the  fact  that  several 
things  can  be  done  almost  equally  well.  Neither 
is  it  ground  of  discouragement  as  to  final  success. 
Any  of  the  great  professions,   if  entered   into   with 

*  Stewart's  Elements  of  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,  Ch.  VI.  §  9. 


316  CHOICE   OF   A  PROFESSION. 

an  honest  and  earnest  purpose,  and  faithfully  fol- 
lowed up,  will  soon  generate,  if  it  does  not  find, 
the  spirit  and  mental  aptitude  it  requires :  so  that 
every  one  may  begin  life  with  a  reasonable  assur- 
ance that  his  progress  will  be  in  proportion  to  his 
general  ability,  provided  only  that  he  is  true  to 
his  calling,  whatever  it  may  be,  and  true  to  himself. 

But,  as  intimated  before,  there  is  another  con- 
sideration which  every  one  should  take  into  view  in 
the  choice  of  a  profession  :  I  mean,  Ms  moral  needs 
and  dangers. 

Complaints,  frequent  and  deep,  come  up  from  all 
quarters,  that  moral  and  religious  education  is  more 
and  more  neglected ;  that  young  men  are  trained 
in  letters  and  science,  but  not  in  Christianity,  and 
then  are  sent  forth  into  the  world,  to  do  as  they 
may.  These  complaints  are  doubtless,  to  a  certain 
extent,  well  founded  ;  but  there  is  no  occasion  for 
exaggerating  existing  evils,  no  wisdom  in  turning 
a  sermon  into  a  lampoon  on  the  country  or  the 
age.  After  all,  the  best  part  of  a  Christian  educa- 
tion does  not  result  from  the  formal  teaching  of  a 
catechism,  or  the  formal  observance  of  an  outward 
ritual,  but  from  participation  in  the  life  of  a  com- 
munity acting,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  under 
the  influence  of  Christian  ideas.  And  in  this  re- 
spect I  do  not  believe  in  the  degeneracy  of  modern 
times.     The  thousand  reformatory  movements  going 


CHOICE   OF   A   PROFESSION.  317 

on  around  us,  although  attended  with  not  a  little 
of  folly  and  extravagance,  prove  incontestablj  one 
thing :  they  prove  that  men  are  beginning  to  feel, 
as  they  never  did  before,  that  religion  is  not  merely 
to  be  professed,  but  lived;  that  it  is  to  mould,  not 
merely  the  faith  and  worship  of  individuals,  but  the 
manners  and  customs  of  society,  the  institutions  and 
the  laws ;  in  short,  that  a  community  is  Christian 
so  far  as  it  acts  out  Christian  ideas,  and  no  further. 
Now  I  say,  that  merely  to  grow  up  in  such  a  com- 
munity, and,  as  a  necessary  consequence,  to  partake 
more  or  less  of  the  prevailing  spirit,  is  a  sort  of 
Christian  education,  and,  with  all  its  drawbacks  and 
shortcomings,  a  better  Christian  education,  in  my 
opinion,  than  was  ever  given  in  the  conventual 
schools  of  the  Middle  Ages,  where  theology,  and  the 
means  and  forms  of  a  mechanical  devotion,  were 
almost  the  only  things  taught. 

Growing  up  amidst  these  movements,  and  par- 
taking more  or  less  of  the  common  life,  it  is  hardly 
to  be  expected  that  young  men,  in  deliberately  lay- 
ing down  a  plan  of  life,  will  make  it  part  of  that 
plan  to  purchase  success  by  the  sacrifice  of  integrity 
and  honor.  But  the  danger  is,  that  they  will  not 
take  care,  in  the  outset,  effectually  to  guard  against 
the  possibility  of  such  an  event,  though  it  does  not 
enter  into  their  plan.  The  danger  is,  that  they 
will  allow  themselves  to  be  drawn  into  connections, 


318  CHOICE   OF  A  PROFESSION. 

and  under  influences,  which  will  slowly  and  uncon- 
sciously undermine  their  integrity  and  honor ;  that 
in  selecting  their  worldly  pursuits  they  will  think 
only  of  worldly  ends,  not  reflecting,  that,  without 
personal  dignity  and  worth,  distinction  is  an  empty 
name,  and  wealth  but  a  temptation,  or  at  best  a 
vulgar  care. 

It  will  not  do  to  rank  the  choice  of  a  profession 
among  things  indifierent,  or  things  allowable,  in  a 
moral  point  of  view,  on  the  ground  that  there  is 
no  morality  whatever  in  preferring  the  study  of 
medicine  to  that  of  law,  or  the  study  of  law  to  that 
of  medicine.  True,  there  is  no  morality  in  pre- 
ferring one  study  to  another,  nor  in  the  act  of 
choice  founded  on  that  preference,  simply  consid- 
ered ;  nevertheless,  the  consequences  of  the  act  may 
be  of  unspeakable  moment  in  their  bearing  on  a 
man's  moral  progress,  as  it  determines  the  sphere 
and  kind  of  his  actions,  and  it  is  in  the  doing  of 
these  actions  that  his  character  will  be  formed. 
Again,  it  will  not  do  to  assume  that  it  must  be  safe 
to  adopt  this  or  that  profession,  on  the  ground  that 
good  men  have  done  so,  without  ceasing  to  be  good 
men.  The  safety  of  such  men  may  be  owing  to 
conditions  in  which  they  differ  from  you  ;  —  to  a 
different  temperament,  to  a  different  previous  train- 
ing, or  perhaps  to  their  very  goodness  itself,  lead- 
ing them  to  take  a  higher  and  more  Christian  view 


CHOICE   OF   A  PROFESSION. 


319 


of  the  nature  and  ends  of  the  profession,  and  of 
their  duties  to  it.  We  ki^ow  from  Scripture  that 
some  can  tread  on  serpents  and  scorpions  without 
being  hurt ;  but  it  is  not  so  with  all. 

And  besides,  it  is  not  enough  to  know  that  your 
profession  will  not  hurt  you:  it  should  help  you; 
it  is  to  make  you,  for  the  most  part,  what  you 
are  to  be.  Much,  I  am  aware,  is  said,  at  the  present 
day,  about  extra-professional  duties  and  activities, 
and  many  appear  to  look  in  that  direction  for  their 
principal  influence  and  distinction.  In  order  to 
vindicate  this  course  by  a  show  of  reasoning,  they 
will  tell  you  that  a  clergyman,  for  example,  is  more 
a  citizen  than  he  is  a  clergyman,  and  more  a  man 
than  he  is  a  citizen.  Indeed !  on  this  principle  they 
might  go  one  step  further,  and  say  that  he  is  more 
an  animal  than  either.  The  argument  is  fallacious 
at  bottom;  if  it  proved  anything,  it  would  prove 
too  much.  The  mistake  originates  in  overlooking 
or  misapplying  the  logical  paradox,  that  the  less  ex- 
tensive a  general  term  is,  the  more  it  includes. 
The  clergyman  is  a  man  and  a  citizen,  and  some- 
thing more.  Speaking  generally,  the  office  indicates 
and  defines  the  sphere  in  which  the  duties  of  the  man 
and  the  citizen  are  to  be  fulfilled.  In  one  word,  he 
has  an  appropriate  and  specific  care  which  he  has 
no  right  to  forsake,  that  he  may  look  after  another 
man's.      See   how   such   conduct    would    strike   you 


320  CHOICE   OF  A  PROFESSION. 

in  other  and  simpler  relations.  Tlie  helm  is  put 
into  the  pilot's  hands,  which  -he  neglects  that  he 
may  talk  politics  with  the  crew,  —  on  the  plea,  for- 
sooth, that  he  is  more  a  citizen  than  a  pilot,  —  and 
the  vessel  is  lost.  Would  the  owners  be  satisfied? 
Would  anybody  be  satisfied?  I  think  not.  Among 
the  ultraisms  with  which  the  age  teems,  there  is  none 
for  which  less  can  be  said  than  for  that  unnatural 
and  impracticable  cosmopolitanism  which  makes  our 
responsibilities  begin  with  the  duties  farthest  from 
us,  and  is  chiefly  anxious  lest  we  should  love  our 
friends,  our  country,  our  profession,  too  well.  Let 
not  the  cant  of  a  so-called  liberalism  make  you 
ashamed  of  a  hearty  devotion  to  your  profession, 
after  you  have  chosen  it,  seeking  by  your  success 
in  that,  and  not  in  digressions  from  it,  to  build  up 
an  honest  independence  and  a  good  name.  But  for 
this  very  reason  it  becomes  the  more  necessary  that 
your  profession  should  be  one  which  will  afford 
scope  for  your  best  affections  and  abilities,  and  tend 
to  make  the  most,  not  only  of  your  circumstances, 
but  of  yourselves. 

Hence  it  may  be  thought  that  I  have  done  nothing, 
after  all,  to  lessen  the  embarrassment  attendant  on 
the  choice  of  a  profession,  but  only  changed  its 
issues,  making  it  to  turn  on  the  question  of  moral 
fitness,  and  not,  as  a  general  rule,  on  that  of  men- 
tal aptitude,  or  bent  of  genius.     This,  however,  is 


CHOICE   OF  A  PROFESSION.  821 

only  partially  true.  The  moral  embarrassments  al- 
most entirely  disappear,  as  soon  as  the  subject  is 
approached  with  an  honest  purpose  to  do  what  is 
right.  In  such  a  frame  of  mind  it  is  hardly  pos- 
sible that  a  thought  should  be  entertained  of  a  pur- 
suit involving  great  moral  dangers  or  incongruities. 
A  man's  profession  is  no  longer  regarded  as  a  field 
of  selfish  competition,  but  of  a  noble  and  generous 
emulation  in  the  public  service,  the  only,  or  the 
main  solicitude  being,  that  he  may  find  a  situation 
in  which  he  can  best  fulfil  all  his  duties  to  God 
and  man.  And  even  this  solicitude  need  not  trouble 
the  upright  in  heart ;  for  moral  safety  and  moral 
progress  seldom  require  that  a  man  should  change 
his  profession,  but  only  that  he  should  take  a  differ- 
ent and  a  higher  view  of  what  belongs  to  the  pro- 
fession he  has  chosen.  A  profession,  which  to  low 
and  sordid  men  is  as  low  and  sordid  as  they, 
becomes  transfigured  in  the  new  lights  and  relations 
under  which  it  is  regarded  by  the  enlightened  and 
devoted  Christian.  Meanwhile  the  lawyer  does  not 
cease  to  be  a  lawyer,  merely  because  he  becomes 
a  Christian  lawyer ;  neither  does  the  physician  cease 
to  be  a  physician,  merely  because  he  becomes  a 
Christian  physician. 

I  have  now  set  before  you,  my  friends,  what 
seems  to  me  to  be  the  duty  of  a  young  man  in  the 
choice  of  his  profession,  and  1  have  endeavored  to 

14*  u 


322  CHOICE   OF  A  PROFESSION. 

do  it  in  such  a  manner,  that  no  one  may  think  to 
find  in  his  perplexity  as  to  what  he  ought  to  do 
an  excuse  for  doing  nothing.  Neither  your  profes- 
sion nor  your  circumstances,  but  the  quick  eye, 
and  the  strong  arm,  and  the  iron  will  must  work 
out  for  you  the  great  problem  of  life.  These  quali- 
ties, however,  are  little  better  than  brute  force,  un- 
less inspired  and  directed  by  a  high  moral  purpose ; 
and  this  high  moral  purpose  little  better  than  a 
breath  of  air,  unless  it  rests  on  religious  faith  ;  and 
this  religious  faith  "  unstable  as  water,"  unless  ac- 
cepted as  the  revealed  will  of  God.  "  For  other 
foundation  can  no  man  lay  than  that  is  laid,  which 
is  Jesus  Christ." 


THE    END    NOT    YET. 

NOT    AS   THOUGH    I    HAD    ALREADY    ATTAINED,    EITHER    WERE    AL- 
READY perfect:  but  i  follow  after.  —  Philippians  iii.  12. 

One  of  the  strongest  natural  proofs  or  presumptions 
of  man's  immortality  is  found  in  the  fact,  that  his 
entire  destiny  never  seems  to  be  accomplished  in 
this  life.  He  never  becomes,  in  the  present  constitu- 
tion of  things,  all  that  his  nature,  in  itself  considered, 
makes  him  capable  of  becoming.  It  is  not  so  with 
the  inferior  animals.  All  mere  animals,  without  a 
single  exception,  have  their  instincts  with  fixed  boun- 
daries, which  are  soon  reached  and  never  passed, 
and  never  would  be  passed  if  they  were  to  live  for- 
ever. But  no  such  boundaries  are  set  to  the  human 
faculties.  Every  new  acquisition  which  a  man  makes 
is  not  only  so  much  gained,  but  a  new  power  of  gain- 
ing more;  and  so  on,  without  end.  Now,  why  en- 
dow him  with  a  nature  capable  of  unlimited  growth 
and  progress,  why  introduce  this  into  the  plan  of 
creation,  and  yet  not  provide  scope  in  the  same  plan 
for   the   actual  or    possible   development   of  such   a 


324  THE  END  NOT   YET. 

nature  ?  Can  we  believe  that  man,  alone  of  all  be- 
ings, should  be  clothed  with  a  nature  which  is  in 
contradiction  to  his  destiny?  that  he  is  constituted 
and  contrived  for  one  issue,  and  doomed  to  another  ? 
that  he,  alone  of  all  beings,  is  mocked  with  conscious 
powers  and  irrepressible  aspirations,  which  were  in- 
tended from  the  beginning  to  be  disappointed  ?  in 
fine,  that  the  sentiments  which  most  ennoble  him, 
and  the  faith  which  most  inspires  and  exalts  him, 
should  all  have  their  foundation  and  root  in  a  delu- 
sion and  a  lie  ? 

No ;  though  man  can  never  attain  to  perfection, 
he  will  always  be  in  a  condition,  if  so  disposed,  to 
make  continual  advances  towards  it.  And  hence  the 
distinguishing  peculiarity  of  human  life,  that  it  is 
never  finished,  never  completed,  in  the  sense  of  all 
being  done  that  ought  to  be  done.  Man's  goal  in 
the  distance  is  not  a  stationary  one  ;  it  is  continually 
moving  on  before  him :  and  this  is  provided  for,  in 
the  mind  of  man,  as  well  as  in  his  circumstances, 
by  making  his  powers  of  conception  to  transcend 
his  powers  of  execution.  By  the  very  process  of 
transmuting  the  ideal  of  yesterday  into  the  actual  of 
to-day,  he  is  put  into  a  condition  to  elevate  and  purify 
his  former  ideal;  his  notion  or  conception  of  what 
he  ought  to  be  is  still  in  advance  of  what  he  is.  His 
rule  should  be,  always  to  do  liis  best;  but  his  best 
of  to-day  is  a  better  best  than  that  of  yesterday, 
because  his  views  have  been  enlarged  and  extended. 


THE  END   NOT  YET.  825 

Hence  it  is,  that,  with  every  man  in  whom  there 
is  the  slightest  pretension  to  activity  of  thought,  the 
ideal  of  life  always  keeps  in  advance  of  the  actual,  to 
beckon  him  on.  Constituted  as  his  nature  is,  there 
never  will  come  a  time,  in  this  world  or  the  next, 
when  he  will  not  have  occasion  to  say,  with  the  Apos- 
tle, "  Not  as  though  I  had  already  attained,  either 
were  already  perfect :  but  I  follow  after."  The  end 
is  not  yet. 

From  this  constitution  of  human  life  two  conse- 
quences flow;  both  of  which  will  strike  us  at  first 
sight  as  evil,  but  on  further  consideration  will  be 
approved  as  good. 

In  the  first  place,  a  foundation  is  thus  laid  in  the 
human  soul  for  a  profound  and  ineradicable  feel- 
ing of  discontent  and  unrest.  I  do  not  here  use  the 
term  "  discontent "  in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  most 
frequently  taken ;  I  do  not  mean  discontent  with 
the  past,  or  discontent  with  our  condition  and  cir- 
cumstances ;  but  merely  discontent  with  ourselves 
as  we  are,  grounded  on  a  conviction  that  we  might 
be,  and  ought  to  be,  continually  growing  better.  If 
it  should  be  objected,  that  all  discontent  supposes 
uneasiness,  and  all  uneasiness  pain,  and  that  all  pain 
is  evil,  I  answer  that  this  is  reasoning  according  to 
sound,  and  not  according  to  sense.  All  uneasiness 
does  not  suppose  positive  pain.  That  uneasiness  with 
our   present   selves  which   puts   us   on   self-improve- 


326  THE  END  NOT  YET. 

ment  is  not  attended  with  pain,  provided  only  that 
nothing  exists  within  or  without  to  hinder  such  self- 
improvement.  It  is  nothing  but  the  uneasiness  of 
desire ;  and  who  would  live  with  nothing  to  desire  ? 
It  is  not  necessarily  accompanied  by  a  shade  of  re- 
morse, or  repentance,  or  even  of  regret ;  for  the  self- 
improvement  desired  may  not  be  from  bad  to  good, 
but  from  good  to  better ;  and  this  is  a  longing  which 
may  burn  in  the  heart  of  an  archangel,  as  well  as 
in  that  of  halting  and  fainting  man.  What,  however, 
under  this  view,  becomes  of  the  peace  and  rest  which 
the  Gospel  promises  as  the  reward  of  faith  and  obedi- 
ence ?  "  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of 
me ;  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  of  heart ;  and  ye 
shall  find  rest  to  your  souls."  I  answer,  again,  that 
the  "rest"  here  spoken  of  is  rest  from  worldly 
uneasiness  and  discontent,  rest  from  struggle  and 
conflict  with  external  or  internal  foes,  —  not  rest 
from  progress,  not  rest  from  self-improvement. 

There  is  also,  as  I  have  intimated  above,  another 
consequence,  and  one  of  still  greater  practical  mo- 
ment, flowing  from  the  fact,  that  the  end  of  human 
life  is  not  an  attainment  made  once  for  all,  but  a 
continual  unfolding,  a  continual  advancing.  This 
consequence  is,  that,  as  human  life  is  never  complete, 
education,  which  is  the  preparation  for  it  in  its  differ- 
ent and  successive  degrees  and  stages,  is  never  com- 
plete.    You  remember  those  noble  words  of  Milton : 


THE   END  NOT   YET.  327 

"  I  call,  therefore,  a  complete  and  generous  educa- 
tion that  which  fits  a  man  to  perform  justly,  skilfully, 
and  magnanimously  all  the  offices,  both  private  and 
public,  of  peace  and  war."  *  But  when,  in  the  very 
next  sentence,  he  proceeds  to  call  attention  to  the 
manner  in  which  "  all  this  may  be  done  between 
twelve  and  one  and  twenty,"  we  feel  that  he  has  lost 
sight  of  his  own  conception  of  what  education  should 
be,  and  sunk  down  to  the  common  and  low  view  of 
the  subject.  Education,  in  its  highest  and  best  sense, 
does  not  consist  wholly  or  mainly  in  mere  teaching, 
but  still  more  in  the  unfolding  and  training  of  the 
intellectual  and  moral  faculties.  It  comprehends  the 
sum  total  of  the  preparation  for  the  life  to  follow ; 
and,  understood  in  this  sense,  it  is  obvious  that  no 
bounds  are  set  to  it,  or  can  be  set  to  it.  Childhood 
is  the  education  for  youth ;  youth,  for  manhood ; 
manhood,  for  old  age  ;  and  the  whole  of  this  life 
for  the  life  to  come.  Neither  will  it  stop  there. 
Hints  abound  in  Scripture  which  confirm  the  expecta- 
tion, founded  on  the  analogies  of  nature,  that  progress 
will  not  end  with  the  world  that  now  is.  The  im- 
mortal spirit  will  still  need  to  be  fitted  for  higher 
and  higher  stages  in  the  heavenly  society  and  the 
heavenly  occupations  and  enjoyments.  Education 
will  never  stand  still ;  its  work  will  never  be  ac- 
complished ;  the  time  will  never  come  when  it  can- 

*  Tractate  on  Education,  §  7. 


328  THE  END  NOT   YET. 

not  be  said,  with  as  much  truth  as  now,  "  The  end 
is  not  yet."  The  great  Apostle  to  the  Gentiles  is 
probably  repeating  now,  what  he  said  or  implied 
so  often  on  earth,  "  Not  as  though  I  had  already  at- 
tained, either  were  already  perfect :  but  I  follow  after." 

This  train  of  thought  has  been  suggested  by  the 
condition  and  prospects  of  that  portion  of  my  audi- 
ence who  have  just  accomplished  their  collegiate 
course,  and  are  worshipping  with  us  for  the  last 
time. 

To  say,  my  young  friends,  that  your  education 
is  not  as  yet  complete,  would  be  to  say  what  you 
all  feel  and  know.  Many  of  you  have  already  made 
arrangements  to  enter  immediately  on  professional 
or  more  exclusively  scientific  studies,  understanding 
it  to  be  in  continuation  of  the  education  which  you 
have  begun  here.  Under  these  circumstances  it  is 
of  importance  to  apprehend  as  clearly  as  may  be 
the  precise  place  which  an  academic  training  holds 
in  the  life  of  a  liberally  educated  man. 

In  the  first  place,  there  is  the  exercise  and  dis- 
cipline of  the  intellectual  faculties.  Bishop  Butler 
has  told  you,  that  "  if  we  suppose  a  person  brought 
into  the  world  with  all  his  powers  of  body  and 
mind  in  maturity,  as  far  as  this  is  conceivable,  he 
would  plainly  be  at  first  as  unqualified  for  the 
human  life  of  mature  age  as  an  idiot."  *     And  the 

*  Analogy^  Part  I.  Chap.  V. 


THE  END  NOT   YET.  329 

reason  is  obvious.  It  is  not  enough  that  we  have 
powers ;  we  must  know  how  to  use  them,  have 
them  under  our  command,  be  able  to  concentrate 
them  on  this  subject  or  that,  as  we  choose  ;  which 
is  the  work  of  experience  and  discipline.  Now  I 
admit  that  any  mode  of  Ufe  supposes  some  kind 
and  some  degree  of  experience  and  intellectual  ac- 
tivity ;  and  this  is  of  the  nature  of  education,  and 
leads  to  more  or  less  of  self-culture.  All  life  is  ex- 
ercise, and  all  exercise  is  education  of  some  sort 
or  other ;  but  a  collegiate  education  has  this  dis- 
tinction and  privilege  :  it  is  systematic  education,  — 
education  systematically  contrived  with  a  view  to 
bring  out  and  cultivate  in  the  best  manner  all  the 
faculties,  neither  neglecting  any  nor  exaggerating 
any.  Provided  it  does  this  effectively,  it  accom- 
plishes, as  far  as  it  goes,  the  great  purpose  of  a 
general  and  preparatory  education. 

Here,  then,  is  a  sufficient  answer  to  the  shallow 
but  popular  objection,  that  many  things  studied  in 
colleges  have  no  direct  bearing  on  after  life.  This 
is  often  doubtless  the  case  with  some  particular 
studies,  in  themselves  considered,  but  not  with  the 
general  discipline  they  induce,  which  is  the  principal 
thing.  It  cannot  be  repeated  too  often,  that  the 
principal  object  aimed  at  in  preliminary  and  general 
education  is,  not  to  teach  one  what  he  ought  to 
think  in  after  life,  but  to  put  him  into  a  condition 


330  THE  END  NOT   YET. 

to  think  for  himself,  with  judgment,  discrimination, 
energy,  and  taste.  For  this  reason  the  wisdom  of 
ages  has  pronounced  in  favor  of  classical  studies,  as 
laying  the  best  foundation  of  a  liberal  culture  ;  no 
matter  though  the  student  should  never  have  occa- 
sion in  after  life  to  open  a  Latin  or  Greek  book, 
or,  indeed,  attain  to  such  proficiency  as  would 
enable  him  to  enjoy  it,  if  he  did.  The  same  may 
also  be  said  of  the  study  of  mathematics  and  meta- 
physics, at  least  in  respect  to  minds  having  any 
natural  aptitude  for  it.  A  great  master  of  the  last- 
mentioned  science  has  said :  "It  is  as  the  best 
gymnastic  of  the  mind,  —  as  a  mean,  principally, 
and  almost  exclusively  conducive  to  the  highest 
education  of  our  noblest  powers,  that  we  would  vin- 
dicate to  these  speculations  the  necessity  which  has 
too  frequently  been  denied  them.  By  no  other  in- 
tellectual application  (and  least  of  all  by  physical  pur- 
suits) is  the  soul  thus  reflected  on  itself,  and  its 
faculties  concentred  in  such  independent,  vigorous, 
unwonted,  and  continued  energy ;  —  by  none,  there- 
fore, are  its  best  capacities  so  variously  and  in- 
tensely evolved.  ^  Where  there  is  most  life,  there 
is  the  victory.'  "  * 

Even,  therefore,  if  all  that  is  learned  in  colleges 
in  the  way  of  positive  instruction  were  forgotten  at 

*  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Discussions  on  Philosophy  and  Literature^ 
p.  40. 


THE   END   NOT   YET.  331 

the  moment  of  leaving  them,  it  does  not  follow  that 
the  time  spent  there  is  misspent.  But  all  is  not 
forgotten. 

Accordingly  I  would  mention,  as  the  second  ad- 
vantage of  a  college  course,  the  general  information 
it  imparts  in  almost  every  field  of  human  inquiry  ; 
which  general  information,  considered  as  the  basis 
of  a  special  scientific  or  professional  education,  makes 
the  whole  to  be  a  truly  liberal  education.  Who 
does  not  know  that  what  are  called  the  learned 
professions  may  be  adopted  and  followed  in  a  spirit 
as  narrow  and  sordid  as  any  of  the  handicrafts  ? 
This  is  the  case,  for  the  most  part,  with  the  lawyer 
who  is  nothing  but  a  lawyer,  and  with  the  physician 
who  is  nothing  but  a  physician  ;  neither  being  bent 
on  understanding  his  profession  in  its  highest  rela- 
tions, or  exalting  it  to  its  highest  uses,  but  only  on 
turning  it  to  immediate  profit.  Some  have  thought 
that  this  might  be  prevented  by  resisting  the  ten- 
dency of  modern  times  to  a  division  and  subdivision 
of  intellectual  labor.  But  not  so.  This  tendency 
to  a  division  and  subdivision  of  intellectual  labor 
is  a  necessary  consequence  of  the  advancement  of 
the  arts  and  sciences,  making  it  indispensable  to 
success,  certainly  to  eminence,  that  a  man  should 
give  himself  mainly  to  a  single  department.  Under 
these  circumstances,  if  a  professional  man  does  not 
start  with  a  mind  stored  with  the  fruits  of  good  learn- 


332  THE  EKD  NOT  YET. 

ing,  or  at  least  with  an  acquired  taste  for  such  things, 
it  is  hardly  to  be  expected  that  he  will  ever  have  them. 
A  lawyer  or  physician  in  full  practice  can  find  oppor- 
tunity for  liberal  studies  and  a  general  self-culture, 
if  he  is  so  disposed ;  but  the  disposition  itself  is 
not  likely  to  spring  up  amidst  the  fatigues  and  dis- 
tractions of  his  daily  and  hourly  cares.  If  you  mean 
by  a  lawyer  nothing  more  than  a  cunning  and  suc- 
cessful trier  of  cases,  one  who  can  browbeat  a  wit- 
ness or  mystify  the  jury,  I  do  not  suppose  that  a 
college  education  is  necessary  to  such  a  person,  or 
even  that  it  would  be  useful.  But  if  you  mean  by 
a  lawyer,  an  accomplished  advocate,  one  who  can 
seize  the  principle  which  lies  concealed  under  the 
precedent,  and  make  the  darkest  subject  plain  to 
common  minds,  by  throwing  upon  it  the  lights  of 
an  extended  and  various  erudition,  it  is  certain 
that  mere  legal  culture  will  not  do.  It  must  be 
legal  culture,  founded  on  the  highest  general  and 
learned  culture  which  the  age  affords. 

The  third  principal  benefit  resulting  from  a  col- 
lege training,  considered  as  preliminary  to  the  more 
special  vocations  in  life,  is  not  so  much  intellectual 
as  moral  and  practical.  A  college,  as  we  have  been 
told  again  and  again,  is  a  little  world,  a  micro- 
cosm, where  almost  every  faculty,  disposition,  and 
passion  is  put  to  the  proof  which  is  ever  called  out 
in  the  great  world.     Here  the  student  must  exer- 


THE   END   NOT   YET.  333 

cise  self-control,  especially  as  regards  the  love  of 
ease  and  the  love  of  pleasure,  or  take  the  conse- 
quences. Here  he  must  choose  his  amusements  and 
his  companions  wisely,  or  take  the  consequences. 
Here  also  he  must  concentrate  his  attention  on  the 
work  of  the  hour,  and  submit  to  earnest  and  con- 
tinuous labor,  or  take  the  consequences.  Aiid  these 
consequences,  though  not  always  the  same  in  form, 
are  the  same  in  substance,  and,  as  far  as  they  go, 
the  same  in  their  bearing  on  success  and  happiness 
as  in  the  great  world.  All  this,  however,  may  be 
said  to  hold  true  of  early  life,  wherever  passed ; 
and  so  it  does.  What  distinguishes  a  college  life 
is,  that  it  comes  to  a  natural  close  ;  judgment  is 
pronounced  upon  it ;  we  say  of  one  person,  he  has 
succeeded,  and  of  another,  he  has  failed.  The  same 
actors  will  reappear,  indeed  ;  but  it  will  be  on  an- 
other stage,  in  other  connections,  and  with  other 
objects  in  view ;  hence  it  will  not  follow  necessarily, 
because  a  man  has  failed  here,  that  he  will  fail 
there.  He  may  be  said  to  have  a  second  trial,  while 
others,  with  a  continuous,  unbroken  life,  have  but 
one. 

Now  I  look  on  this  as  an  obvious  and  great  ad- 
vantage. It  is  not  uncommon  for  persons  when 
near  the  close  of  their  earthly  existence  to  express 
a  wish  that  they  could  live  this  life  over  again. 
With  their  present  experience  they  are  not  unwilling 


334  THE  END  NOT   YET. 

to  admit  that  they  should  do  differently  in  many 
respects  ;  that  they  should  set  a  different  estimate 
on  many  of  the  pursuits  of  ambition  and  pleasure, 
and  know  how  to  shun  many  a  hidden  pitfall. 
This  cannot  be  ;  but  a  privilege  resembling  it  to  a 
certain  extent  is  enjoyed  by  all  those  who,  after 
having  completed  their  college  course,  can  carry  the 
often  dear-bought  wisdom  which  they  have  gained 
there  into  new  scenes.  Thus  college  life  is  not 
merely  a  preparation  for  the  life  to  follow,  —  a  quality 
which  it  possesses  in  common  with  every  form  of 
novitiate  or  apprenticeship,  —  but  also  a  life  by  itself, 
a  rehearsal,  so  to  speak,  of  the  life  to  follow,  a  sort 
of  trial-life,  with  its  retributions  carried  out,  leaving 
those  who  have  just  passed  through  it  to  enter 
upon  another  career  with  the  singular  benefit  of 
such  an  experience. 

This,  my  friends,  is  precisely  your  condition  at  this 
moment.  With  one  foot  on  the  threshold  of  the 
great  world,  you  cannot  help  looking  back ;  and  you 
cannot  help  looking  forward. 

You  cannot  help  looking  back.  And  what  do  you 
see  ?  Many  things,  I  hope,  which  you  can  review 
with  satisfaction.  But  are  there  not  also  many  things 
which  you  now  wish  had  not  been  ?  No  writer  has 
sufficiently  explained  that  law  of  our  nature  by  which 
an  excited  state  of  the  passions  is  able  to  pervert 
our  judgment  as  to  what  is  rig] it  and  safe.     Explain 


THE  END  NOT   YET.  335 

it,  however,  as  we  may,  one  thing  is  certain  ;  in  the 
moment  of  action,  with  our  desires  raised  and  in- 
flamed, we  are  seldom  in  a  condition  to  form  a  just 
opinion  of  the  true  character  and  real  tendency  of 
what  we  do.  Afterwards  comes  a  season  of  sober 
reflection,  when  we  can  see  things  as  they  are  ;  when 
we  can  pronounce  as  impartially  on  our  own  con- 
duct as  on  that  of  others  ;  when  we  can  feel  that 
we  have  been  made  fools  of  by  sophistries  which 
will  not  bear  a  moment's  examination ;  that  we  have 
sought  to  reconcile  ourselves  to  ourselves *.by  excuses 
which  we  suspected  at  the  time,  and  which  we  now 
know,  were  hollow  and  vain.  This  is  generally  the 
crisis  in  a  young  man's  destiny.  If  he  is  of  a  dull 
or  reckless  mind,  he  will  refuse  to  dwell  on  the  sub- 
ject, and  go  on  as  before.  If  he  is  of  a  sensitive 
and  weak  mind,  he  will  be  apt  to  indulge  in  unavail- 
ing regrets,  and  perhaps  give  up  all  as  lost.  But  if 
he  is  of  a  sound  and  resolute  mind,  he  will  make 
his  past  mistakes  and  failures  to  be  his  teachers  ;  the 
consciousness  of  his  very  sins  will  stir  his  moral  na- 
ture to  its  depths,  and  sometimes  have  the  effect  to 
rouse  him  to  a  new  activity.  Thus  students  of  good 
natural  dispositions  and  gifts,  who  have  spent  their 
time  in  college  to  but  little  purpose,  not  unfrequently 
wake  up  at  the  close  of  it,  and  give  themselves  to 
their  subsequent  pursuits  with  an  earnestness  and 
devotion  which  redeem  the  evil   days   and   surprise 


336  THE  END  NOT  YET. 

all.  In  this  way  they  may  be  said,  more  perhaps 
than  any  other  class  of  persons,  to  have  a  second 
chance  to  distinguish  themselves,  a  second  chance 
to  satisfy  their  friends  and  put  themselves  right  before 
the  world  and  before  God ;  but  it  is  commonly  their 
last  chance. 

Again,  you  cannot  help  looking  forward.  And 
what  do  you  see  ?  You  see,  in  the  first  place,  that 
success  is  to  depend,  much  more  than  it  has  done 
hitherto,  on  yourselves.  Up  to  this  hour  fond  and 
anxious  eyes  have  watched  over  you  ;  your  wants 
have  been  anticipated,  and  provided  for,  day  by  day  ; 
other  hands  have  assisted  yours  in  removing  the  ob- 
stacles in  your  path  ;  you  have  pursued  your  studies 
under  a  routine,  which,  however  irksome  to  you  in 
other  respects,  has  had  this  effect  at  least:  it  has 
helped  to  supply  the  defects  in  your  own  self-direction, 
and  self-control.  But  all  this  is  now  over.  In  the 
pursuit  of  your  professional  studies  the  restraints 
of  discipline  will  no  longer  be  felt.  The  momentous, 
the  terrible  gift  of  freedom  is  put  into  your  hands, 
and  you  will  be  left  to  make  yourselves  as  wise  and 
virtuous  and  happy  as  you  please,  or  as  foolish 
and  vicious  and  miserable  as  you  please.  This,  more 
perhaps  than  anything  else,  must  have  the  effect  to 
induce  you  to  pause,  and  ponder  your  steps.  But 
the  doctrine  is  one  which  has  its  bright  as  well  as  its 
dark  side.     Many  young  men  are   troubled  by  the 


THE   END   NOT   YET.  337 

apprehension  that  their  success  in  life  will  depend 
on  their  choosing  the  right  profession,  or  on  find- 
ing their  proper  place  in  society.  But  no  such  thing. 
If  your  tastes  and  aptitudes  are  strongly  marked, 
you  can  hardly  help  choosing  the  right  profession, 
and  falling  into  the  proper  place  ;  and  if  your  tastes 
and  aptitudes  are  not  strongly  marked,  it  is  plain 
that  you  would  do  about  as  well  in  one  profession 
or  place  as  in  another.  In  any  event,  success  will 
not  depend  on  profession  or  place ;  it  will  depend 
on  pour  selves.  Under  God  it  will  depend  on  your- 
selves whether  you  become  something  or  nothing ; 
and  even  the  help  you  are  to  expect  from  God  is 
to  come  through  your  own  choice  and  your  own 
exertions.  "  Work  out  your  own  salvation  with  fear 
and  trembling;  for  it  is  God  that  worketh  in  you 
both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure." 

Again ;  you  see,  you  can  hardly  help  seeing,  that 
in  the  life  before  you  everything  will  depend,  in  the 
last  resort,  on  moral  worth  sustained  by  Christian 
faith.  In  early  life  we  have  to  content  ourselves 
with  good  dispositions  and  generous  impulses,  for 
these  have  not  had  time  to  take  the  form  of  habit. 
But  good  dispositions  and  generous  impulses  are 
motives  merely ;  they  do  not  constitute  a  solid  foun- 
dation of  character,  on  which  alone  a  truly  happy 
and  prosperous  life  can  be  built.  I  do  not  deny  that 
knowledge,  talent,  genius,  may  procure  a  certain 
15  V 


838  THE  END  NOT   YET. 

measure  of  renown,  a  certain  sort  of  power;  but 
there  is  one  thing  which  is  absolutely  indispensable 
to  a  happy  and  prosperous  life,  and  which  they  never 
did  and  never  can  procure  ;  I  mean,  public  confi- 
dence. This  depends  on  moral  worth  ;  and  moral 
worth  must  find  its  support  in  religious  principle  ; 
and  the  religious  principle  must  be,  in  your  case, 
enlightened  religious  principle.  A  merely  practical 
man  may  accept  the  religion  which  prevails  around 
him,  and  in  such  unthinking  acquiescence  find  all 
the  support  he  needs.  But  the  scholar,  whose  busi- 
ness it  is  to  inquire  and  investigate,  must  see  with 
his  own  eyes ;  he  must  see  that  the  religion  he  pro- 
fesses is  consistent  with  itself  and  with  all  known 
truth,  otherwise  it  will  not  be  likely  to  do  much  to 
give  either  stability  to  his  character  or  peace  to  his 
soul. 

Remember,  you  have  but  begun  your  education, 
an  education  which  is  never  to  come  to  an  end ; 
but  you  have  begun  it  well,  if  you  have  laid  the 
foundation  of  a  broad  and  generous  culture  of  the 
whole  mind.  Hereafter  you  are  to  pursue  a  nar- 
rower walk ;  but  let  not  your  eagerness  for  profes- 
sioiial  advancement  narrow  your  thoughts  or  your 
affections,  or  lead  you  to  neglect  what  is  necessary 
to  moral  and  religious  progress.  "  For  what  shall  it 
profit  a  man,  if  he  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose 
his  own  soul  ?  "     As  professional  men,  as  scholars, 


THE   END   NOT   YET.  839 

as  Christians,  let  me  beseech  you  to  take  up  the 
noble  declaration  of  the  Apostle,  "  I  count  not  my- 
self to  have  apprehended :  but  this  one  thing  I  do ; 
forgetting  those  things  which  are  behind,  and  reach- 
ing forth  unto  those  things  which  are  before,  I  press 
toward  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling 
of  God  in  Christ  Jesus." 


FAITH    AND    WOEKS. 

TE    SEE     THEN    HOW    THAT    BY    WORKS    A    MAN    IS    JUSTIFIED,   AND 

NOT  BY  FAITH  ONLY.  —  James  ii.  24. 

Luther,  unable  to  reconcile  this  and  other  pas- 
sages in  the  Epistle  of  James  with  his  favorite  doc- 
trine of  justification  by  faith  alone,  did  not  hesitate 
to  stigmatize  the  whole  as  "an  epistle  of  straw." 
Others,  also,  have  presumed  to  speak  in  terms  almost 
equally  disparaging  and  contemptuous  of  this  Apostle, 
not  only  on  account  of  the  supposed  contradiction 
between  him  and  Paul  respecting  justification,  but 
also  because  the  name  of  Christ  is  scarcely  mentioned 
by  him  above  once  or  twice,  and  then  coldly;  and 
because  he  is  silent  respecting  the  mysteries  of  the 
incarnation  and  redemption,  morality  being  the  prin- 
cipal theme. 

But  this  is  not  the  way,  as  it  seems  to  me,  in  which 
to  show  our  respect  for  the  Scriptures.  Instead  of 
setting  up  one  writer  above  another,  one  book  above 
another,  or  one  passage  above  another,  it  certainly 
would  be  more  becoming  to  inquire  whether   some 


FAITH  AND   WORKS.  341 

statement  of  the  Christian  doctrine  cannot  be  found 
in  which  all  will  be  seen  to  harmonize. 

Take,  for  example,  this  long-contested  question 
respecting  Faith  and  Works.  Some,  relying  on  one 
set  of  texts,  maintain  that  mankind  are  justified 
and  saved  by  faith  "  without  works  ;  "  others,  relying 
on  another  set  of  texts,  maintain  that  "  faith  without 
works  is  dead.'^  How  are  these  apparently  contra- 
dictory doctrines  to  be  reconciled  ? 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  origin  and  continuance  of 
this  controversy  in  the  Church,  as  well  as  of  many 
others,  are  mainly,  if  not  entirely,  owing  to  the  im- 
perfection and  ambiguity  of  language.  When  we  are 
said  to  be  saved  by  faith  alone  ^  faith  is  understood  to 
include  all  that  is  essential  to  obedience  in  a  moral 
point  of  view  ;  that  is  to  say,  a  disposition  and  pur- 
pose  to  obey,  an  eiBfective  principle  of  obedience,  an 
inward  act  of  self-surrender  and  trust.  On  the  other 
hand,  when  we  are  said  to  be  saved  by  works,  works 
are  understood  to  include  the  internal  as  well  as  the 
external  part  of  the  virtuous  act ;  not  merely  the 
outward  form  of  obedience,  but  also  its  spring  and 
soul ;  that  is  to  say,  the  conviction,  the  faith,  which 
the  works  express,  and  which  must  really  exist  or 
the  works  are  a  vain  show. 

Accordingly,  both  the  doctrines,  when  rightly  under- 
stood, agree  in  making  obedience,  "  righteousness 
and   true  holiness,"    to   be  the  ultimate  ground  of 


342  FAITH  AND  WORKS. 

salvation  ;  the  only  difference  being,  that  one  regards 
this  obedience  in  the  inward  principle  from  which 
it  starts,  and  the  other  in  the  outward  act  in  which 
it  is  consummated.  Thus,  if  we  cannot  say  that  these 
two  doctrines  are  one  and  identical,  we  can  say, 
nevertheless,  that  they  do  but  represent  different 
sides  of  one  and  the  same  truth,  and  indeed  that 
each  supposes  or  involves  the  other.  The  only  faith 
which  saves,  is  the  faith  which  leads  to  good  works, 
as  occasion  offers  ;  and  the  only  works  which  save, 
are  the  works  which  spring  from  faith,  —  from  faith 
in  some  moral  or  religious  principle,  as  their  living 
root  in  the  soul ;  and  the  only  reason  why  either 
of  them  saves  is,  that  both  alike  denote  a  life  brought 
inwardly  and  outwardly  into  harmony  with  the  Divine 
Will. 

Let  us  now  inquire  whether  this  view  of  faith  and 
works,  and  their  connection  with  salvation,  is  not 
confirmed  by  Scripture,  and  whether  it  does  not  afford 
the  means  of  reconciling  what  have  been  thought  the 
discordant  teachings  of  the  two  Apostles  on  this 
subject. 

We  begin  with  an  example  from  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, often  cited  in  this  discussion.  "  Abraham," 
it  is  said,  "  believed  God,  and  it  was  counted  unto 
him  for  righteousness."  Now  it  will  not  be  pretended 
that  the  faith  here  spoken  of  was  a  mere  assenting  to 
propositions,  or  the  holding  of  a  creed,  or  an  intellect- 


FAITH   AND   WOEKS.  343 

ual  act  of  any  kind.  It  was  not  a  speculative,  but 
a  practical  faith.  The  patriarch  "  believed  God  ;  " 
that  is  to  say,  confided  in  him,  was  willing  to  be  led 
by  him,  was  ready  to  do  whatever  God  required. 
It  was  not  a  mere  conviction,  but  a  disposition ;  one 
which  he  evinced  pre-eminently  in  the  first  recorded 
act  of  his  life,  when  he  went  out  from  his  own  coun- 
try, in  implicit  obedience  to  a  Divine  intimation, 
"  not  knowing  whither  he  went "  ;  and  again,  on 
a  still  more  memorable  occasion,  when,  in  implicit 
obedience  to  a  like  intimation,  he  "  stretched  forth 
his  hand,  and  took  the  knife  to  slay  his  son."  True, 
in  the  last-mentioned  case  his  hand  was  stayed  ;  but 
this  made  no  moral  difference,  no  difference  in  his 
disposition  to  obey,  no  difference  in  his  deserts.  No 
matter  whether  his  faith  was  acted  out  or  not ;  he 
was  ready  to  act  it  out,  being  hindered  by  extra- 
neous causes  alone.  The  will  was  there,  and  the  will 
was  taken  for  the  deed,  as  having  all  the  moral  char- 
acter the  deed  itself  could  have,  under  any  circum- 
stances. 

To  be  convinced  that  there  was  nothing  un- 
reasonable or  strange  in  all  this,  it  is  only  neces- 
sary to  reverse  the  conditions  of  the  case.  Suppose 
that  Abraham  had  made  up  his  mind  to  disobey^ 
but  had  been  frustrated  in  the  attempt  by  some 
unforeseen  accident ;  every  one  would  have  said 
that,  in  the  eye  of  conscience,  he   was  guilty.      If, 


344  FAITH  AND   WORKS. 

then,  a  disposition  to  disobey  would  of  itself  have 
been  counted  unto  him  for  unrighteousness,  why 
wonder  that  faith^  which  stands  in  this  connection 
for  a  disposition  to  obey,  was  counted  unto  him 
for  righteousness  ?  Above  all,  why  appeal  to  suck 
texts  to  prove  that  righteousness  is  unnecessary,  when 
from  these  very  texts  it  appears  that  it  was  only  in 
so  far  as  his  faith  "  was  counted  unto  him  for 
righteousness  "  that  it  was  of  any  avail  ? 

Before  considering  more  particularly  the  language 
used  in  the  New  Testament  in  speaking  of  faith  as 
a  condition  of  salvation,  it  will  be  proper  to  say  a 
few  words  of  the  relation  which  the  New  Testa- 
ment, taken  as  a  whole,  bears  to  the  Old,  in  the 
education  of  the  great  human  family. 

A  wise  parent,  in  bringing  up  his  children,  ac- 
commodates his  modes  of  training  to  their  years ; 
that  is,  to  the  degree  of  development  which  their 
moral  and  intellectual  faculties  have  attained.  He 
does  not  begin  by  inculcating  general  principles  and 
dispositions,  which  his  children  are  not  as  yet  in  a 
condition  to  comprehend,  and  then  tell  them  to  go 
and  apply  these  principles  and  dispositions,  as  oc- 
casion offers,  in  the  multiplied  and  complicated  re- 
lations of  human  life.  This  would  be  to  treat  chil- 
dren as  if  they  were  men.  He  begins  by  command- 
ing or  forbidding  easily  intelligible  actions.  Why 
tliese  particular  actions  are  to  be  done  or  avoided 


FAITH  AND   WORKS.  345 

it  is  not  necessary  that  the  child  should  know :  it 
is  enough  if  the  parent  knows  that  the  habits  thus 
formed  are  likely  to  generate  the  inward  spirit  re- 
quired and  unfold  the  character  aright.  And  so 
with  the  Universal  Father.  Judaism  was  not  a  dis- 
pensation of  inward  principles,  of  moral  and  spirit- 
ual truth,  for  which  the  world  was  as  yet  unpre- 
pared, but  a  dispensation  of  outward  routine,  of 
specific  regulations  and  ordinances.  Even  the  moral- 
ity inculcated  by  Moses  was  inculcated,  for  the  most 
part,  under  the  form  of  specific  outward  acts  to  be 
done  or  avoided,  and  not  of  inward  principles  or 
dispositions  to  be  believed  in,  cherished,  and  carried 
out. 

We  do  not  mention  this  in  order  to  find  fault 
with  it.  We  do  not  complain  that  an  all-wise 
Providence  has  adapted  his  special  modes  of  human 
training  to  the  successive  stages  of  human  progress. 
Considered  with  reference  to  the  age  and  people 
for  which  it  was  designed,  Judaism  was  undoubt- 
edly better  fitted  to  accomplish  its  purpose,  than  if 
it  had  been  conceived  on  the  same  plan  with  Chris- 
tianity :  we  only  say  that  it  was  not  conceived  on 
the  same  plan.  Its  ultimate  object,  indeed,  was  the 
same,  —  human  progress;  but  it  aimed  to  accom- 
plish this  object  in  another  and,  for  the  time,  a 
better  way.  The  Jews  were  to  be  carried  forward 
in   their  moral  and  religious  culture  by  the   reflex 

15* 


346  FAITH  AND   WORKS. 

influence  on  their  minds  and  hearts  of  an  imposing 
ritual,  which  meant  much  more  than  they  were  as 
yet  in  a  condition  to  comprehend,  if  stated  in  the 
form  of  principles.  Children  in  spiritual  under- 
standing, they  were  treated  as  children ;  that  is, 
subjected  to  an  outward  discipline,  which,  whether 
they  could  enter  at  first  into  its  profound  spiritual 
import  or  not,  was  of  such  a  nature  that  it  could 
hardly  fail,  however  blindly  and  mechanically  gone 
through  with,  to  react  powerfully  on  their  feelings 
and  imagination,  and  so  keep  alive  among  them  a 
sense  of  religion,  and  gradually  form  them  to  a 
capacity  for  a  higher  and  more  spiritual  revelation. 
Mark,  then,  the  radical  distinction  between  the 
Jewish  peculiarity  and  the  Christian  peculiarity,  — • 
a  distinction  which  holds  as  well  in  respect  to  the 
moral  as  the  ceremonial  law.  The  Jew  was  ex- 
pected to  conform  his  life  and  worship  to  certain 
externally  imposed  rules  ;  the  Christian  is  expected 
to  accept  and  carry  out  certain  internal  principles. 
With  the  Jew,  the  reforming  power  of  his  religion 
acted  from  without  inwardly ;  with  the  Christian,  the 
reforming  power  of  his  religion  acts  from  within 
outwardly.  The  great  question  with  the  Jew  was, 
Have  I  done  what  is  required?  The  great  question 
with  the  Christian  is.  Are  my  moral  convictions,  my 
inward  purposes  and  dispositions,  my  spirit  and  my 
trust,  what   they  ought  to   be  ?    In   one   word,   the 


FAITH  AND   WORKS.  847 

former  was  a  dispensation  of  "  works,"  the  latter, 
a  dispensation  of  "  faith,"  but  both,  equally  and 
alike,  dispensations  of  obedience  and  of  progress. 

This  being  premised,  it  is  easy  to  see  why  the 
New  Testament  lays  so  much  stress  on  faith^  often 
representing  it  as  the  one  thing  needful,  the  sole, 
indispensable  condition  of  acceptance  with  God. 

Sometimes  it  is  stated  thus :  ''  Believe  on  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved,  and 
thine  house."  That  is  to  say,  "  Put  your  trust  in 
him  ;  commit  yourself  wholly  to  his  guidance  ;  re- 
nounce all  confidence  in  other  teachers  and  leaders  ; 
and  confide  in  him,  and  follow  him."  Obviously, 
therefore,  faith  in  this  case  is  not  meant  to  ex- 
clude obedience,  or  to  supersede  its  necessity :  on 
the  contrary,  it  involves  or  supposes  obedience,  or 
at  least  a  disposition  to  obey  in  all  things.  To 
make  this  clear,  take  a  parallel  case.  A  man  in  at- 
tempting to  traverse  an  unfrequented  forest  is  be- 
wildered and  lost ;  he  does  not  know  which  way 
to  turn.  You  procure  for  him  a  trusty  and  ex- 
perienced guide,  and  say  :  "  Have  faith  in  this  guide  ; 
confide  in  him ;  do  as  he  advises,  and  go  as  he  di- 
rects, and  you  are  safe."  Here  salvation  is  made 
to  depend,  you  will  observe,  on  faith ^  on  faith  in  a 
guide  ;  but,  I  repeat,  so  far  is  this  from  excluding 
obedience,  or  dispensing  with  its  necessity,  that  it 
is   understood   by   all   to   involve    or   suppose   it,  or 


848  FAITH  AND   WOKKS. 

to  lead  to  it ;  so  that  without  a  purpose  at  least 
of  obedience  it  cannot  exist  even  as  faith.  What 
if  the  traveller  should  say,  "I  have  entire  faith 
in  the  guide ; "  but  still  should  refuse  or  neglect 
to  follow  him?  Would  not  all  exclaim  that  this  is 
not  the  faith  which  saves  ?  Merely  to  believe  that 
the  guide  is  able  and  willing  to  lead  you  to  a  place 
of  safety  is  nothing :  you  must  actually  follow  him, 
or  you  will  never  reach  that  place  of  safety. 

Again,  not  the  person,  but  the  teachings  of  our 
Lord,  are  sometimes  made  the  objects  of  a  saving 
faith.  Thus  we  are  told :  "  For  I  am  not  ashamed 
of  the  Gospel  of  Christ ;  for  it  is  the  power  of  God 
unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  believeth."  That 
is  to  say,  it  is  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation  to 
every  one  who  confides  in  it ;  who  gives  himself  up  to 
it ;  who  accepts  its  revelations  as  realities,  and  there- 
fore is  affected  by  them  as  realities ;  who  takes  the 
view  which  the  Gospel  gives  of  the  spiritual  life  and 
the  spiritual  world  into  his  inmost  consciousness,  and 
governs  himself  accordingly  in  his  inmost  purposes 
and  thoughts.  But  faith  in  Christianity,  thus  under- 
stood, supposes  something  more  than  a  mere  con- 
viction that  the  system  is  trustworthy  :  it  supposes 
the  practical  exercise  of  this  trust  on  our  part,  an  act 
of  self-surrender,  giving  ourselves  up  to  it ;  just  as  a 
merchant  is  said  to  have  faith  in  a  ship  when  he 
embarks  in  it,  or  puts  his  property  on  board  of  it; 


FAITH  AND  WOEKS.  349 

or  a  sick  man  in  a  new  method  of  cure,  when  he 
abandons  all  others,  and  trusts  himself  to  that.  The 
sick  man,  however,  takes  the  medicine.  Nobody  ex- 
pects to  be  healed  merely  by  believing  in  the  efficacy 
of  a  medicine,  if  he  does  not  take  it.  For  the  same 
reason  the  impotent  in  virtue  must  not  expect  ad- 
vantage from  faith  in  the  remedies  which  the  Gospel 
proposes,  if  they  do  not  also  take  these  remedies  ; 
but  to  do  this  is  to  obey. 

One  word,  now,  on  the  apparent  discrepancy  be- 
tween Paul  and  James  on  this  subject.  "  Therefore 
we  conclude,"  says  the  former,  *'  that  a  man  is  justi- 
fied by  faith  without  the  works  of  the  law."  By 
"  works  of  the  law  "  we  are  not  to  understand,  in 
this  place,  what  is  commonly  meant  in  discourses  on 
practical  religion  by  "  good  works,"  that  is,  the  act- 
ing out  of  Christian  principles,  but  a  mere  external 
conformity  to  a  prescribed  rule  of  conduct.  The  doc- 
trine is,  that  under  the  Christian  dispensation  men 
are  not  justified  and  saved  by  a  mere  external  con- 
formity, however  exact,  to  any  externally  imposed 
law,  however  righteous  and  good.  "  Works,"  overt 
actions,  have  no  proper  moral  or  religious  worth, 
unless  they  have  their  root  in  faith  and  love.  It 
is  not  enough  that  the  hand  obeys ;  the  will,  the 
heart,  must  also  obey ;  and  this  supposes  an  act  of 
self-surrender;  and  this,  again,  supposes  faith.  What 
a  man  is  inwardly,  that  is,  in  himself,  and  not  what 


350  FAITH  AND  WORKS. 

he  is  outwardly  (except  as  it  is  the  evidence,  the 
expression,  the  carrying  out  of  what  he  is  inwardly), 
has  weight  with  God.  The  heart  to  obey,  the  spirit 
of  obedience,  that  confidence  and  trust  which  begets 
a  willingness  to  be  led,  and  which  is  all  compre- 
hended under  the  single  term  faith^  is  the  great 
thing.  "  Man  looketh  on  the  outward  appearance," 
for  it  is  by  that  only  that  he  can  judge  his  fellow- 
man  ;  "  but  the  Lord  looketh  on  the  heart,"  so  that 
if  the  heart,  the  disposition,  be  right,  even  though 
no  opportunity  for  manifesting  it  in  outward  action 
should  occur,  the  disposition  alone  will  be  accepted. 
In  one  word,  as  in  the  case  of  Abraham  before  men- 
tioned, the  will  is  taken  for  the  deed  ;  the  spirit  of 
obedience  for  actual  obedience  ;  a  meek  and  trustful 
self-surrender  to  Christian  guidance,  or  faith  alone, 
for  the  works  to  which  it  leads. 

Nay,  more ;  even  when  our  faith  is  manifested 
by  our  works,  we  are  not  saved,  according  to  the 
Gospel,  by  our  outward  works,  but  by  the  inward 
principle  from  which  they  spring,  by  our  faith:  so 
that  here  again  we  are  saved,  not  by  works,  but  by 
faith.  Without  faith  in  Christian  principles  a  man 
may  do  many  things  which  these  principles  sanc- 
tion or  require.  Tlius,  he  may  give  largely  to  the 
poor,  or  endow  hospitals  or  colleges,  which  are  cer- 
tainly liberal  acts,  and  yet  be  a  stranger  to  the  Chris- 
tian principle  of  liberality ;    but  you  would  hardly 


FAITH  AND   WORKS.  351 

say,  in  such  cases,  that  he  acts  out  a  Christian  prin- 
ciple. You  would  hardly  say  that  a  man  can  act 
out  a  principle  which  he  does  not  feel ;  or,  again, 
that  he  can  truly  feel  a  principle  in  which  he  does 
not  believe.  Accordingly,  the  Gospel  is  conceived 
on  the  plan  of  inducing  faith  in  a  higher  set  of  prin- 
ciples than  that  which  the  world  acknowledges  as 
the  necessary  condition  and  prerequisite  of  a  higher 
form  of  character.  Everything,  therefore,  has  its  root 
in  this  faith.  While  this  faith  is  alive,  all  is  alive  ; 
when  this  faith  is  dead,  all  is  dead ;  and  hence  the 
whole  dispensation  is  not  inaptly  denominated  by 
the  Apostle  "  the  Law  of  Faith." 

This  is  the  doctrine  of  Paul.  When  rightly  and 
clearly  apprehended,  it  will  be  seen  not  to  conflict 
with  the  prevailing  opinion,  that  Christianity  is  almost 
wholly  a  practical  thing,  and  that  the  Christian  salva- 
tion depends  on  "  righteousness  and  true  holiness," 
on  conformity  of  heart  and  will  with  the  Divine  law. 
But  it  is  a  doctrine,  which,  in  certain  states  of  the 
public  mind,  is  peculiarly  liable  to  perversion,  and 
this  perversion  began  to  manifest  itself  in  the  Apos- 
tolic Age,  calling  forth  the  earnest  expostulations  of 
James  in  the  chapter  from  which  my  text  is  taken. 
"  Ye  see,  then,  how  that  by  works  a  man  is  justified, 
and  not  by  faith  only."  Here  it  is  plain,  from  the 
examples  adduced,  that  by  "  works "  we  are  to 
understand  really  good  works,  by  which  I  mean,  the 


352  FAITH  AND  WORKS. 

acting  out  of  Christian  principles ;  and  the  object 
of  the  Apostle  is  to  warn  men  against  forsaking  this 
ground  of  hope,  and  building  on  a  merely  speculative 
faith,  or  a  dreamy,  sentimental,  sterile  admiration 
of  our  Lord's  character  and  words.  Still,  the  only 
difference  between  the  two  Apostles  is  this :  one  re- 
gards obedience  in  the  inward  principle  from  which 
it  starts,  and  the  other  in  the  outward  act  in  which 
it  is  consummated ;  —  both,  however,  making  obedi- 
ence, "  righteousness  and  true  holiness,'^  the  ulti- 
mate ground  of  salvation,  the  breath  of  eternal  life. 
Let  me  impress  upon  you  the  great  practical  lesson 
to  be  gathered  from  the  twofold  aspect  of  the  Apos- 
tolic doctrine  respecting  faith  and  works.  There  are 
times  when,  on  account  of  the  hollo wness  and  super- 
ficialness  of  the  public  morals,  we  ought  to  insist,  with 
Paul,  that  works,  apart  from  the  living  principle 
of  faith  in  the  soul,  are  vain  ;  and,  again,  there  are 
times  when,  on  account  of  the  prevalent  sentimental- 
ism,  mysticism,  and  morbid  introversion  of  spirit,  we 
ought  to  insist,  with  James,  "  that  faith  without  works 
is  dead." 


SALVATION  BY  HOPE. 

FOB  WE  ARE  SAVED  BY  HOPE. —  Romans  viu.  24. 

The  Gospel,  as  the  term  denotes,  is  glad  tidings ; 
—  glad  tidings  to  all,  not  excepting  the  chiefest  of 
sinners.  No  matter  what  may  have  been  a  man's 
past  life,  if  he  is  now  sincerely  disposed  to  turn  unto 
God,  it  holds  out  to  him  the  promise  of  sympathy, 
pardon,  and  help.  It  is  a  Divine  dispensation  of 
encouragement.  Its  salvation  is  a  salvation  "  by 
hope." 

To  understand  this  doctrine,  it  will  be  necessary 
to  begin  by  considering  generally  what  mankind  stand 
most  in  need  of  as  a  motive  and  means  to  that  change 
of  heart  and  life  on  which  salvation  depends. 

And,  first,  in  case  of  hardened  and  abandoned  sin- 
ners. With  respect  to  such  men,  at  least,  I  beUeve  the 
impression  is  almost  universal,  that  what  they  stand 
most  in  need  of  is,  to  be  thoroughly  alarmed.  The 
preacher,  it  is  said,  must  arouse  them  to  a  proper 
sense  of  their  danger,  by  an  honest  dealing  with  the 
terrors  of  the  law,  by  vivid  pictures  of  the  judgment 


354  SALVATION  BY  HOPE. 

to  come  if  they  die  impenitent.  Undoubtedly  this 
is  among  the  means  which  are  appointed  for  reclaim- 
ing bad  men ;  but  that  it  is  the  only  means,  or  the 
means  most  likely  to  be  effectual,  or  the  means  most 
needed,  is  not  so  clear.  The  usual  argument  for 
resorting  to  it,  in  preference  to  all  others,  is  far  from 
being  satisfactory.  This  argument  is,  that  as  bad 
men,  through  the  indurating  effects  of  sin,  have  be- 
come insensible  to  higher  and  better  motives,  they 
must  be  moved,  if  moved  at  all,  by  a  fear  of  God's 
indignation  and  wrath.  But  those  who  insist  thus 
on  the  indurating  effects  of  sin  should  remember  that 
these  effects  are  nowhere  more  apparent  than  in  re- 
spect to  the  very  motive  in  question.  Sin  hardens  men, 
I  admit,  against  a  sense  of  duty  and  a  sense  of  shame ; 
but  it  hardens  them,  if  possible,  still  more  against  a 
sense  of  any  dangers  dependent  on  what  religion 
threatens ;  that  is  to  say,  against  their  spiritual  dan- 
gers. 

For  this  reason,  I  am  not  surprised  to  find  that  the 
two  Christian  sects  which  have  distinguished  them- 
selves above  all  others  for  their  successful  dealing  with 
hardened  and  abandoned  sinners,  I  mean  the  Mora- 
vians and  the  Methodists,  are  remarkable  for  founding 
religion,  not  on  selfish  fear,  or  on  calculations  of  inter- 
est or  danger  of  any  kind,  but  on  hearts  melted  by  a 
sense  of  the  unutterable  love  of  God.  It  is  also  in 
obedience  to  the  same  instinct  of  spiritual  wisdom  that 


SALVATION  BY  HOPE.  355 

Howard  and  Elizabeth  Fry,  with  the  men  and  women 
who  have  followed  them  in  their  mission  to  carry  the 
Gospel  into  prisons,  and  among  convicted  felons,  are 
found  to  have  trusted  almost  exclusively  to  the  power 
of  Christian  sympathy,  aided  by  a  gentle  and  kind 
manner,  as  a  means  of  subduing  those  who  feared 
neither  God  nor  man,  neither  death  nor  hell.  Let 
me  add,  that  not  more  than  forty  years  ago  a  con- 
firmed drunkard  was  generally  regarded  as  incorrig- 
ible. At  last  it  occurred  to  a  few  reformers  that  the 
supposed  incorrigibleness  of  the  drunkard  might  be 
owing,  not  to  insensibility  to  his  degradation,  but  to 
distrust  of  his  competency  to  escape  from  it ;  in  other 
words,  that  he  did  not  stand  in  need  of  menace,  or 
even  of  rebuke  or  warning,  so  much  as  of  sympathy 
and  encouragement.  Here  was  a  great  moral  dis- 
covery, and  hence,  in  no  small  measure,  the  new  life 
in  the  Temperance  cause,  and  the  marvellous  success 
which  has  attended  it. 

But  if  this  is  true  of  hardened  and  abandoned  sin- 
ners, how  much  more  so  of  all  such  as  still  have  their 
misgivings  and  relentings,  whose  sin  consists,  for  the 
most  part,  in  halting  between  two  opinions,  not  hav- 
ing made  up  their  minds  what  course  to  take,  or 
having  made  them  up  only  so  far  as  this,  that  they 
will  become  religious  at  some  future  day,  but  not  yet. 
Speaking  generally,  such  persons  do  not  need  to  be 
convinced   that   religion   is   the   best   and   only   safe 


356  SALVATION  BY  HOPE. 

course.  When  they  read  the  life  of  an  enlightened 
and  consistent  Christian,  or  meet  with  one  in  their 
intercourse  with  society,  they  cannot  help  wishing 
that  they  were  just  such  a  man ;  that  they  had 
his  faith  and  his  works  and  his  prospects.  But 
there  are  obstacles,  discouragements  in  the  way. 
They  think  it  would  be  harder  work  for  them  to  be 
Christians  than  for  most  men ;  that  it  is  beyond  their 
reach,  at  least  for  the  present ;  that  it  would  be  van- 
ity or  presumption  in  them  to  make  the  attempt. 
Now,  I  ask,  how  are  these  obstacles,  all  consisting 
radically  in  a  want  of  confidence,  most  likely  to  be 
removed  or  overcome  ?  Clearly  and  incontestably  as 
the  Gospel  aims  to  do  it ;  —  by  inspiring  new  confi- 
dence, by  holding  out  the  promise  of  sympathy  and 
help ;  by  a  divinely  authenticated  dispensation  of 
encouragement.     "  We  are  saved  by  hope." 

But  if  I  were  to  stop  here,  half  of  my  purpose  would 
be  left  unaccomplished.  All  will  agree,  I  doubt  not, 
that  life  without  hope  from  any  quarter  would  be 
insupportable.  Still,  some  may  ask,  why  look  to 
religion,  why  look  to  Christianity  for  this  hope  ? 
Why  not  hope  each  one  in  the  strength  of  his  own 
right  arm,  or  in  what  the  world  has  to  promise,  or 
simply  in  the  righteousness  of  his  claim  ? 

To  answer  these  questions  intelligibly  and  satisfac- 
torily, it  will  be  necessary  to  speak  of  the  nature  and 
excellence  of  the  Cliristian  hope. 


SALVATION  BY  HOPE.  357 

111  the  first  place,  the  Christian  hope  is  not  limited 
and  bounded,  like  all  worldly,  irreligious,  infidel  hopes, 
by  what  man  can  do.  In  a  storm  at  sea  we  naturally 
and  properly  look  to  the  pilot ;  if  dangerously  sick 
ourselves,  or  if  our  friends  are  dangerously  sick,  we 
naturally  and  properly  look  to  the  physician  ;  in  civil 
troubles  we  naturally  and  properly  look  to  the  ex- 
perienced and  trustworthy  statesman.  But  we  know 
beforehand  that  the  pilot,  the  physician,  the  states- 
man can  do  so  much  and  no  more  ;  and  when  this 
point  is  reached,  to  whom  are  we  to  look?  There 
are  situations,  and  they  too  of  not  infrequent  occur- 
rence, in  which  the  offer  of  human  aid,  however 
kindly  intended,  seems  almost  like  mockery.  This 
may  not  be  my  situation,  or  yours,  at  the  present 
moment ;  but  it  will  be  sooner  or  later,  —  before 
many  years,  perhaps  before  many  days  ;  and  what 
shall  we  look  to  then  ?  If  our  hope  is  in  man  alone, 
it  is  plainly  one  which  is  crumbling,  day  by  day,  into 
dust.  Unless  we  recognize  the  being,  and  trust  in 
the  presence  and  agency  of  a  Higher  Power,  the  hour 
is  coming,  every  setting  sun  is  bringing  us  one  day 
nearer  to  it,  when  the  soul  will  be  without  hope. 
Despair  will  take  the  place  of  hope.  Here  also  it 
is  of  importance  to  observe,  that,  with  persons  of 
reflection  and  forethought,  whatever  is  seen  to  end 
in  despair,  begins  in  despair. 

Another   distinction    of  the    Christian   hope   con- 


358  SALVATION  BY  HOPE. 

sists  in  its  not  being  limited  and  bounded,  as  all 
worldly,  irreligious,  and  infidel  hopes  must  be,  by 
the  present  life.  Hope,  to  be  hope,  must  not  be 
liable  to  be  swept  away  by  the  very  vicissitudes 
under  which  it  is  to  sustain  and  cheer  us.  The 
first  Christians  shared  but  the  common  fate  of 
earnest  and  devoted  men  in  difficult  times ;  yet 
one  of  them  could  say :  "  If  in  this  life  only  we 
have  hope  in  Christ,  we  are  of  all  men  most  misera- 
ble." The  hope  ^' in  this  life  only"  is  one  which 
plays  along  the  pathways  of  youth  and  wealth  and 
power,  but  leaves  the  wronged  and  the  forsaken  to 
weep  and  die.  Go  with  this  hope  into  the  abodes 
of  extreme  penury  and  want ;  go  with  it  to  the 
bedside  of  one  who  is  suffering  under  an  incurable 
malady.  It  may  answer  well  enough  for  the  house 
of  feasting  and  merriment,  where  hope  is  not  wanted ; 
but  go  with  it  where  hope  is  most  wanted,  go  with 
it  to  the  house  of  mourning,  where  death  has  just 
stricken  down  the  joy  or  the  stay  of  that  now  deso- 
late home.  What  can  it  do  ?  Almost  the  entire 
language  of  condolence  under  grief,  hardship,  and 
oppression  is  borrowed  from  the  Bible,  and  owes  its 
significance  and  force  to  the  Christian  doctrine  that 
"  the  sufferings  of  this  present  time  are  not  worthy 
to  be  compared  with  the  glory  which  shall  be  re- 
vealed in  us."  Even  those  who  do  not  profess  to 
be  religious  themselves,  participate  more  or  less  in 


SALVATION  BY  HOPE.  359 

the  benefits  of  the  common  hope,  —  through  a  com- 
mon sympathy,  if  not  through  a  common  conviction. 
The  soothing  effects  of  the  prayer  or  the  hymn 
reach  every  heart. 

A  third  circumstance  distinguishing  the  Christian 
hope  is,  that,  unlike  all  worldly,  irreligious,  infidel 
hopes,  it  does  not  profess  to  measure  itself  by  the 
real  or  supposed  deserts  of  the  individual,  but  by 
the  boundless  goodness  and  mercy  of  the  Supreme 
Disposer.  Some  preachers  are  accustomed  to  speak 
of  human  nature  in  the  most  disparaging  terms,  rep- 
resenting man's  best  services  as  no  better  than  a 
hollow  pretence,  an  outside  show,  a  false  glitter. 
If  they  speak  thus  from  conviction  of  its  truth,  not 
a  word  is  to  be  said  ;  every  one  must  preach  what 
he  believes.  But  if  they  think  by  rhetorical  exag- 
gerations of  human  depravity  to  inculcate  humility 
and  self-abasement,  it  would  be  well  for  them  to 
consider  whether  language  of  this  kind  is  as  likely 
to  humble  men  as  it  is  to  degrade  and  discourage 
them ;  whether  it  as  likely  to  rouse  them  to  ex- 
ertion, as  it  is  to  suggest  a  good,  or  at  least  a 
plausible  excuse  for  not  so  much  as  making  the 
attempt.  For  this  reason,  I  have  no  wish  to  join 
in  any  sweeping  and  indiscriminate  repudiation  of 
human  virtue.  Still  I  think  all  must  agree  that 
this  virtue  is  too  imperfect  even  in  the  best  men, 
and  that  in  most  men   it   is   alloyed  and  offset  by 


360  SALVATION  BY  HOPE. 

too  many  vices  or  failings,  to  authorize  them  to  ex- 
pect much  on  the  score  of  absolute  merit.  Hope, 
therefore,  that  is  founded  on  merit  alone  is  not 
suited  to  the  actual  condition  of  mankind.  Accord- 
ingly the  Gospel  is  conceived  on  the  plan  of  providing, 
not  only  recompense  for  the  righteous,  but  also  en- 
couragement and  hope  for  sinners.  It  begins  with 
us  as  sinners  ;  it  addresses  us  as  sinners,  and  sin- 
ners we  are ;  and  the  excellency  of  "  the  hope  set 
before  us"  is,  that  there  is  nothing  in  our  sins  to 
exclude  us  from  it,  if  we  repent  and  turn  to  God. 
Under  the  Christian  dispensation  it  is  impiety 
to  despair  of  God's  mercy  on  account  of  our  past 
sins  ;  for  this  would  be  to  suppose  these  sins  to  be 
greater  than  His  mercy.  Of  course,  when  we  com- 
pare what  we  are  and  what  we  can  do,  with  what 
we  hope  to  receive,  we  cannot  fail  to  be  struck 
with  the  infinite  disparity ;  but  neither  is  this  just 
ground  for  misgivings.  What  is  promised  is  to  be 
regarded,  not  as  being  of  the  nature  of  wages  for 
work  done,  but  as  being  of  the  nature  of  a  gift  on 
condition  of  obedience  ;  and  in  this  character,  as  a 
gift^  it  takes  its  proportions,  not  from  our  poor 
earnings,  but  from  the  munificence  of  the  Giver. 

These,  then,  are  the  characteristics  by  which  the 
Christian  hope  is  distinguished  from  all  worldly, 
irreligious,  infidel  hopes.  It  is  not  bounded  and 
limited   by   human  weakness,  by   the   narrow   scope 


SALVATION  BY  HOPE.  361 

of  this  life,  or  the  poor  deserts  of  the  individual, 
but  measures  itself  by  the  possible  succors  of  the 
Almighty,  by  the  range  of  eternity,  and  by  the 
infinite  benignity  and  clemency  of  our  heavenly 
Father. 

Who,  it  may  be  asked  in  conclusion,  does  not 
feel  his  need  of  this  hope  ?  I  speak  to  many  who 
are  not  unhappy  now ;  but  I  speak  to  none  who 
are  not  unhappy  at  times.  This  thought  should 
chasten  our  feelings  of  confidence  and  security  even 
when  we  happen  to  be  free  from  pain  and  sorrow  ; 
and  reconcile  us  to  them  when  they  come,  as  the 
common  and  inevitable  lot.  Above  all,  it  should 
lead  us  to  put  ourselves  into  a  condition  to  meet 
the  disastrous  vicissitudes  of  human  life  with  com- 
posure and  dignity.  There  is,  I  know,  a  kind  of 
philosophy^  which  is  sometimes  set  forward  as  a 
substitute  for  religion  in  such  cases.  This  philoso- 
phy will  tell  you,  that  everything  is  determined 
and  fixed  by  an  inexorable  fate ;  that  it  is  mere 
weakness  and  folly,  therefore,  to  tremble  and  shrink 
at  what  is  inevitable,  —  to  give  way  to  regrets  and 
apprehensions  which  can  be  of  no  avail.  As  if  men 
shrank  from  evil  because  they  expected  to  gain  by 
such  conduct ;  as  if  it  were  a  voluntary  thing  with 
them  whether  to  feel  dread,  or  not.  Discipline, 
habit,  this  philosophy,  if  you  please,  may  help  them 
to  conceal  their  dread,  and  make  it  consistent  with 

16 


362  ^     SALVATION  BY  HOPE. 

presence  of  mind,  and  a  manly  composure  ;  it  may 
make  them  still,  but  the  stillness  is  that  of  despair, 
and  not  of  hope.  The  groans  are  not  there,  but 
the  torment  is  there,  and  not  the  less  because  the 
usual  ^igns  of  it 'are  suppressed.  In  one  respect  re- 
ligion, I  admit,  resembles  this  philosophy  ;  it  teaches 
us,  like  this  philosophy,  that  everything  is  deter- 
mined and  fixed  ;  but  here  the  resemblance  ends. 
Religion  teaches  us  that  everything  is  determined 
and  fixed,  not  by  a  blind  and  inexorable  fate,  but 
by  an  infinitely  wise  and  good  Being ;  and  here  is 
ground  for  confidence  and  implicit  trust,  —  a  reason 
why  we  should  put  away  our  fears  ;  —  not,  indeed, 
because  everything  is  determined  and  fixed,  so  that 
our  fears  can  be  of  no  avail,  but  because  every- 
thing is  so  determined  and  fixed  that  all  will  come 
right  at  last,  leaving  us  no  occasion  for  fear.  Hence 
it  is  the  believer  alone  who  is  able  to  say,  "  Why 
art  thou  cast  down,  0  my  soul  ?  and  why  art  thou 
disquieted  within  me  ?  Hope  thou  in  God ;  for  I 
shall  yet  praise  him,  who  is  the  health  of  my  counte- 
nance, and  my  God." 

Again,  who  would  not  cultivate  this  hope  ?  As 
religious  dispositions  are  not  of  this  world,  they  are 
not  likely  to  spring  up  spontaneously  under  worldly 
appliances,  amidst  worldly  avocations.  Religion,  re- 
ligion at  least  in  its  highest  forms,  is  a  delicate  exotic, 
which   must  not  be   expected  to  grow  wild  in  the 


SALVATION  BY  HOPE.  863 

fields  ;  it  must  be  nurtured  with  effort  and  care  ;  it 
must  be  sheltered  from  all  ungenial  influences,  and 
surrounded,  as  far  as  may  be,  with  the  atmosphere,  so 
to  speak,  of  its  native  heaven.  Why  wonder  that  our 
affections  are  not  set  on  things  above,  while  almost 
everything  we  are  saying  and  doing  tends  to  set  them 
on  things  on  the  earth  ?  Why  wonder  that  we  do  not 
find  the  pleasure  and  satisfaction  in  religion  of  which 
others  tell,  if  accustomed  to  think  of  it  only  at  re- 
mote intervals,  and  then  chiefly  as  a  law  to  curb  our 
passions,  or  as  an  avenger  to  punish  our  misdeeds  ? 
We  must  cultivate^  we  must  assiduously  cultivate  a 
temper  of  cheerful,  grateful,  childlike  trust  in  our 
heavenly  Father,  by  acts  of  duty  and  humanity,  by 
prayer  and  all  holy  exercises,  and,  above  all,  by  mak- 
ing ourselves  familiar  with  the  pure,  meek,  loving 
spirit  of  Jesus,  which  will  generate  in  us  not  only 
righteousness,  but  that  peculiar  form  of  righteous- 
ness whereby  the  Christian  is  known.  In  this  way 
Christ  will  be  formed  in  us  the  hope  of  glory ;  "  for 
the  law  made  nothing  perfect,  but  the  bringing  in  of 
a  better  hope  did,  by  the  which  we  draw  nigh  unto 
God."  It  may  be  said,  that  to  be  without  this  hope, 
is  to  fail  in  happiness  ;  not  in  duty.  But  we  should 
consider,  that  if  it  is  not  to  fail  in  duty,  it  is  to  fail 
in  the  motives  to  duty,  which  in  effect  will  amount 
to  the  same  thing.  Hence,  as  Jeremy  Taylor  has 
said,  "  a  man  may  be  damned  for  despairing  to  be 
saved." 


864  SALVATION  BY  HOPE. 

Finally,  who  would  knowingly  and  willingly  dis- 
appoint or  frustrate  this  hope  ?  Because  a  man  has 
hope  in  Christ  it  does  not  follow  that  this  hope  is 
well  founded  in  his  case.  Our  very  hope  may  perish ; 
nay,  it  will  do  so,  unless  we  establish  it  in  righteous- 
ness, and  unless  "  we  show  the  same  diligence,  to 
the  full  assurance  of  hope,  unto  the  end." 


THE  DIFFERENCES  AMONG  CHRISTIANS  NO 
OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

IS  CHRIST  DIVIDED  1  —  1  Corinthians  i.  13. 

The  differences  among  Christians  are  frequently 
referred  to  at  the  present  day.  To  some  they  are 
a  reason  for  scepticism ;  to  some,  an  excuse  for  in- 
difference ;  to  some,  an  occasion  for  cynical  and  con- 
temptuous reflections  on  truth  and  human  nature. 

To  understand  this  subject  aright,  it  will  be  neces- 
sary to  begin  by  considering,  how  it  is  that  men 
come  to  differ  in  morals  and  religion. 

Almost  every  action,  character,  or  doctrine,  on 
which  we  are  called  upon  to  make  up  an  opinion, 
is  more  or  less  complex  ;  that  is  to  say,  has  more 
than  one  side  or  aspect.  This  being  the  case,  if  one 
man  regards  it  on  one  side,  under  one  aspect,  and 
another  regards  it  on  another  side,  and  under  an- 
other aspect,  their  impressions  wiU  be  different,  at 
least  they  ought  to  be.  It  does  not  follow  that 
one  is  true,  and  the  other  false :  both  may  be 
true ;  that  is,  just  and  faithful  representations  of 
the  same  reality,  only  under  different  aspects. 


366  DIFFERENCES   AMONG   CHRISTIANS. 

You  know  how  it  is  with  views  of  a  church,  or 
palace,  or  mountain,  taken  from  different  positions. 
The  views  themselves  are  different ;  nevertheless 
they  are  views  of  the  same  thing,  and  all  of  them 
faithful  representations  of  the  reality,  though  not 
of  the  same  side  of  it.  Yery  probably,  if  a  man 
has  always  been  accustomed  to  regard  the  object 
from  one  position  alone,  he  will  hardly  recognize  it 
in  any  of  the  views  except  in  those  taken  from  the 
same,  or  a  near  position.  For  this  reason  one  man 
may  recognize  the  object  in  one  of  the  views,  and 
not  in  the  rest ;  another  man  may  recognize  the  ob- 
ject in  another  of  the  views,  and  not  in  the  rest ; 
and  so  on.  It  is  not  that  the  rest  are  not  as  faith- 
ful and  true  representations  of  the  object ;  only  they 
are  not  representations  of  that  aspect  of  the  object, 
of  which  alone  the  individual  in  question  is  cog- 
nizant. 

This  illustration  will  help  us  to  account  for  the 
origin  of  those  differences  in  morals,  which  have 
been  thought  by  some  to  throw  everything  into 
doubt.  Thus  it  has  been  said,  that  not  a  vice  can 
be  named  which  has  not  been  practised  in  some 
ages,  and  in  some  countries,  as  a  virtue.  For  ex- 
ample, assassination,  infanticide,  robbery,  have  all 
been  committed,  in  certain  states  of  society,  without 
apparent  compunction,  —  nay,  sometimes  with  the 
countenance  and  support  of  public  opinion,  as  being 


DIFFEEENCES  AMONG"   CHRISTIANS.  367 

necessary,  useful,  or  heroic  acts.  Ethical  writers,  in 
order  to  account  for  these  anomalies,  have  been  in 
the  habit  of  ascribing  them  to  differences  of  culture, 
and  differences  of  physical  and  social  circumstances ; 
and  these,  doubtless,  are  among  the  principal  re- 
mote causes  which  conspire  to  bring  about  the  re- 
sults in  question.  But  how  do  they  bring  them 
about  ?  Simply  and  solely  by  leading  men  to  regard 
the  action  to  be  pronounced  upon  under  a  particu- 
lar point  of  view,  and  under  that  alone.  In  this 
way  retaliation  for  wrong,  under  the  form  of  assassi- 
nation and  revenge,  in  a  rude  state  of  society,  or 
in  very  unsettled  times,  may  come  to  be  regarded 
as  a  kind  of  wild  justice^  and  the  only  justice  ac- 
cessible, and  so  be  approved  ;  for  this  certainly  is 
one  of  the  aspects  of  such  actions  at  such  times, 
and  it  may  be  the  only  one  which  strikes  minds 
thus  situated.  And  so  of  the  other  cases.  I  am 
not  aware  of  a  single  vicious  action  which  was  ever 
held  as  right,  unless,  in  the  circumstances,  it  really 
had  a  good  or  plausible  side,  on  which  alone,  from 
some  cause,  it  was  contemplated,  the  whole  action 
being  judged  by  this  one  side. 

The  same  account  is  also  to  be  given  of  the  origin 
of  most  of  our  differences  in  religious  doctrine  when 
sincerely  entertained.  Take,  for  instance,  what  is 
perhaps  the  most  fundamental  difference  of  all,  the 
different    opinions   which   have    prevailed  respecting 


368  DIFFERENCES   AMONG   CHRISTIANS. 

human  nature.  Who  does  not  know  that  man  actu- 
ally appears  under  all  these  various  aspects  ?  — 
sometimes  but  little  lower  than  the  angels,  and 
sometimes  but  little  better  than  a  fiend.  Hence  the 
most  extreme  and  contradictory  views  on  this  sub- 
ject are  so  far  well  founded  as  this,  that  they  are 
faithful  and  true  representations  of  real  phases  of 
human  nature,  the  error  consisting  not  in  miscon- 
ceiving or  misrepresenting  some  single  phase,  but 
in  judging  our  whole  nature  by  that  alone. 

We  arrive,  then,  at  this  conclusion :  real  and 
sincere  differences  in  morals  and  religion  originate 
for  the  most  part  in  the  fact,  that  men  regard  the 
matter  in  question  from  different  positions,  and  of 
course  under  different  aspects,  each  one  judging  the 
whole  matter  by  that  particular  aspect  of  it  which 
happens  to  be  turned  towards  him.  And  if  so, 
then  it  follows,  that  what  we  call  errors  are  not  so 
much  false  as  partial  views  of  the  reality.  A  cele- 
brated French  writer  has  said,  "  that,  if  we  except 
the  common  maxims  of  morality,  there  is  no  one 
truth  which  can  boast  of  having  been  so  generally 
adopted,  or  through  such  a  succession  of  ages,  as 
certain  ridiculous  and  pernicious  errors ^  *  The 
statement  has  been  objected  to  as  an  exaggeration ; 
but  even  if  it  were  not,  to  what  would  it  amount  ? 
Simply   to   this,   that   thus   far  partial  views,   espe- 

*  Condorcet  in  his  Eloge  of  Euler. 


DIFFERENCES  AMONG   CHRISTIANS.  369 

ciallj  of  large  and  complicated  subjects,  have  pre- 
vailed more  generally,  and  more  extensively,  than 
complete  and  perfect  views. 

Such  being  the  origin  and  nature  of  most  relig- 
ious differences,  it  will  next  be  in  order  to  inquire 
on  what  grounds  they  can  be  regarded  as  a  reason 
or  occasion  for  sceptical,  or  cynical,  or  desponding 
thoughts. 

In  the  first  place,  do  they  afford  us  any  reason  or 
pretext  for  denying  the  trustworthiness  or  compe- 
tency of  the  human  faculties?  Certainly  not.  If, 
indeed,  as  the  language  sometimes  used  on  this  sub- 
ject would  seem  to  imply,  we  actually  saw  differently, 
one  man  from  another,  and  the  same  man  from  him- 
self at  different  times,  there  would  be  some  ground 
for  despair  of  the  human  faculties.  But  we  do 
not  see  differently.  From  what  has  been  said  it  ap- 
pears, that,  though  we  receive  different  impressions 
from  the  same  object,  it  is  not  because  we  see  differ- 
ently, but  because  we  look  at  different  sides  of  the 
object,  and  regard  it  under  different  lights,  or  from 
different  positions.  Could  we  be  induced  to  regard 
the  object  under  precisely  the  same  lights  and  aspects, 
•we  should  doubtless  see  it  alike  ;  and  better  still, 
could  we  be  induced  to  regard  the  object  under  aU 
lights  and  aspects,  we  should  doubtless  not  only  see 
it  alike,  but  see  it  as  it  is. 

Accordingly,  the  differences  among  Christians  are 

16*  X 


S70  DIFFERENCES  AMONG   CHRISTIANS. 

not  to  be  construed  into  evidence  of  the  incompetency 
of  the  human  faculties  in  themselves  considered,  but 
only  of  their  partial  application.  This,  however,  it 
may  be  argued,  is  merely  to  give  another  explanation 
of  the  evil,  without  removing  or  lessening  it ;  the 
partial  application  always  existing  will  render  the 
conflicting  views  of  the  different  sects  alike  unsatis- 
factory and  worthless,  and  mutually  destructive  of 
each  other. 

But  why  assume  that  the  partial  application  will 
always  exist  ?  When  we  begin  our  inquiries  respect- 
ing any  subject,  we  must  begin,  of  course,  by  looking 
at  it  on  one  side  :  our  views  must  be  partial  at  first ; 
but  it  does  not  follow  that  they  must  always  continue 
so.  What,  indeed,  is  progress  in  any  inquiry  but  the 
gradual  enlargement  of  our  views,  which  supposes 
them  to  become  less  and  less  partial  ?  And  hence  the 
generally  acknowledged  fact,  that  thought  and  study, 
a  wider  observation  and  a  more  generous  culture,  tend 
to  dissolve  differences  and  bring  men  together. 

To  this  some  may  object  the  permanent  existence 
of  religious  sects,  retaining  all  their  jealousies  and 
antipathies  against  each  other.  But  it  should  be 
remembered  that  these  sects  exist  in  a  twofold  char- 
acter, as  parties  striving  for  power,  and  as  schools 
of  theology  seeking  the  truth  ;  and  that  it  is  only 
in  ihQ  latter  capacity  that  we  are  concerned  witli 
tliuiu  hr:?.     Now.  the  viae  and  progress  of  sects,  con- 


DIFFERENCES  AMONG   CHRISTIANS.  371 

sidered  as  schools  of  theology,  would  seem  to  be  as 
follows:  A  number  of  persons  are  led  by  various 
causes  —  some  historical,  some  local,  some  personal 
—  to  concur  in  regarding  Christianity  from  a  particu- 
lar position,  —  on  one  of  its  sides,  and  therefore  under 
one  of  its  various  aspects.  The  consequence  is,  that, 
though  the  view  is  a  partial  one,  it  is  one  in  which  the 
whole  sect  agree  ;  differing,  at  the  same  time,  from 
all  other  sects,  who,  in  a  similar  way,  have  been  led 
to  adopt  and  agree  in  some  other  partial  view.  Now, 
we  say,  that,  as  knowledge  advances,  there  is  nothing 
to  hinder  these  sects,  any  more  than  so  many  indi- 
viduals, from  making  their  \dews  less  and  less  partial, 
which  will  have  the  effect  to  bring  them  nearer  and 
nearer  together ;  for  thougli  partial  views  of  truth 
are  many  and  various,  truth  comprehended  in  its 
entireness  is  one.  Nay,  more ;  what  we  thus  see 
might  take  place,  is  taking  place  continvially  ;  in  some 
cases,  complete  amalgamations  of  sects ;  in  others, 
unions  and  alliances  for  certain  purposes ;  and  even 
where,  for  political  reasons,  the  old  names  and  organ- 
izations are  strenuously  maintained,  and  with  them 
some  of  the  old  jealousies  and  antipathies,  it  is  sel- 
dom without  some  abatement  of  the  rigor  of  the  old 
doctrine.  The  Calvinism  of  to-day  is  a  very  differ- 
ent thing  from  Calvin's  Calvinism. 

To  those,  therefore,  who  think  to  find  arguments 
for  scepticism  or  despair  in  the  differences  and  divis- 


372  DIFFERENCES  AMONG   CHRISTIANS. 

ions  of  Christians,  and  who  are  ready  to  pronounce 
the    partial    views   which   prevail    as    unsatisfactory, 
worthless,  and  mutually  destructive  of  each  other,  the 
answer  is  plain  and  conclusive.     In  the  first  place, 
even  the  most  partial  of  these  views  are  worth  a  great 
deal ;  for  they  are  partial  views  of  an  all-important 
truth,  and  as  such  contain  much  that  is  enduring  and 
eternal.     Again,  as  the  error  of  these  views  grows 
mainly  out  of  their  being  partial,   it  is  one   which 
must  be  expected   to  pertam  to  the  first  stages  of 
every  inquiry,  but  gradually  disappear  as  the  inquiry 
goes  on.     And,  finally,  though  it  is  too  much  to  hope 
that  the  time  will  ever  come  on  earth  when  all  re- 
ligious differences  will  be  healed,  or,  in  other  words, 
when  the  multitude  of  partial  views  will  be  swallowed 
up  and  lost  in  a  single  all-comprehensive  view,  still 
we  are  to  consider  that  this  knowing  "  in  part,"  and 
prophesying  "  in  part,"  and  the  trials  and  responsi- 
bilities which  pertain  to  such  a  condition,  may  be 
of  advantage  while  it  lasts,  —  may  be  essential  to  the 
discipline  which   is   to  fit  us  for  that  world,  where 
"  that  which  is  in  part  shall  be  done  away." 

Admitting  all  this,  however,  it  may  still  be  con- 
tended that  I  have  not  touched,  as  yet,  the  real 
"  stone  of  stumbling  and  rock  of  offence  ;  "  which  is 
not  these  differences  and  divisions,  simply  considered, 
but  the  controversies  to  wliicli  they  have  given  birth. 
I  ask,  then,  what  there  is  in  these  controversies^  —  I 


DIFFEEENCES  AMONG   CHKISTIANS.  373 

do  not  say  to  condemn,  for,  considering  how  tliey  are 
often  conducted,  there  is  enough  in  them,  Heaven 
knows,  to  condemn,  —  but  to  authorize,  or  invite,  or 
excuse,  in  lookers  on,  either  indifference  or  unbelief? 

Certainly  of  themselves  they  do  not  argue  indiffer- 
ence or  unbelief ;  but  the  contrary.  An  age  of  con- 
troversy is  pre-eminently  an  age  of  faith ;  a  man  is 
not  likely  to  dispute  earnestly  unless  he  believes  in 
something,  and  attaches  importance  to  it.  Luther 
was  the  greatest  disputant  of  his  day ;  but  he  did  not 
speak  or  write  or  act  like  one  who  looked  on  religion 
as  a  sham  or  a  dream  or  a  shifting  cloud.  These 
controversies,  by  the  manner  in  which  they  are  car- 
ried on,  may  sometimes  show  the  distemper  of  the 
times  ;  they  are  symptomatic,  it  may  be,  of  moral  dis- 
orders, but  they  prove,  at  any  rate,  that  men  are  not 
spiritually  dead. 

Besides,  how  is  it  in  other  things  ?  Name,  if  you 
can,  a  single  interesting  and  important  subject  of  in- 
quiry which  has  not  given  occasion  to  controversy, 
and  led,  in  the  language  of  the  Apostle,  to  "  envying, 
and  strife,  and  divisions."  At  this  moment  the  world 
is  about  as  much  divided,  and,  may  I  not  add  ?  about  as 
much  estranged,  on  scientific  and  political  and  pliil- 
anthropic  questions  as  on  religious  questions.  But  do 
men  hence  infer  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  truth 
in  any  of  these  matters,  or  that  we  have  no  faculties 
to  discover  it  ?     God  forbid  !     It  is  often  in  the  sharp 


374  DIFFERENCES  AMONG   CHRISTIANS. 

collision  of  many  minds  that  the  sacred  spark  is 
struck  out.  Controversy,  with  all  its  objectionable 
liabilities,  is  nevertheless  the  great  stimulant  and 
purifier  of  thought,  the  appointed  means  by  which  the 
mind  struggles  on  in  every  pursuit,  and  communicates 
and  establishes  the  progress  it  has  made. 

Obviously,  therefore,  it  cannot  be  controversy,  as 
such,  that  is  objected  to  in  this  connection,  but  some- 
thing peculiar  to  religious  controversy. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  said  that  controversy  is  well 
enough  where  it  really  has  the  efiect  to  help  forward 
the  truth,  or  to  diffuse  and  establish  it ;  but  in  religion 
it  does  neither,  leaving  every  question  just  where  it 
found  it.  I  reply,  that  even  if  this  were  so,  it  would 
not  be  to  the  purpose  :  it  would  follow,  indeed,  that 
controversy  is  of  no  use  in  religion,  and  ought  to  be 
avoided  ;  but  it  would  not  follow,  that  religion  itself 
is  of  no  use,  or  that  controversy  has  made  it  of  less 
use  or  less  certain.  But  the  whole  statement  is 
erroneous.  There  are  those,  who,  from  extreme  dis- 
taste for  speculation,  or  for  want  of  what  is  called 
speculative  power,  are  fond  of  admitting  the  advances 
made  by  the  experimental  sciences,  but  still  contend 
that  the  speculative  sciences  are  just  where  they  were 
when  men  first  began  to  think.  But  this  doctrine, 
an  extravagance  at  best,  when  applied  to  the  under- 
standing of  Christianity,  becomes  manifestly  absurd  ; 
for  here  we  have  to  do,  not  only  with  speculation, 


DIFFERENCES  AMONG   CHEISTIANS.  375 

but  with  history  and  criticism.  Who  has  yet  to  learn 
the  invaluable  services  of  discussion  and  controversy 
in  settling  the  laws  of  evidence  on  which  the  genu- 
ineness and  authenticity  of  the  Sacred  Books  depend, 
and  the  laws  of  interpretation  by  which  their  import 
is  determined  ?  To  discussion  and  controversy  we 
also  owe  it,  that  the  Christian  doctrines  generally 
have  been  unfolded,  cleared  up,  and  re-stated.  Even 
where  the  old  terms  are  to  a  certain  extent  retained, 
discussion  and  controversy  have  compelled  the  resort 
to  new  explications  more  in  accordance  with  the  ad- 
vanced state  of  society  and  human  intelligence. 

Again  ;  religious  controversy  is  objected  to  because 
of  its  asperities,  and  spirit  of  denunciation,  which 
on  such  a  subject  are  peculiarly  odious,  creating  in 
some  minds  an  invincible  disgust  for  religion  itself. 
That  religious  controversy,  even  among  Christians, 
sometimes  assumes  the  character  here  given  to  it,  I 
am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  confess  ;  but  it  is  easy  to 
see  that  it  is  not  because  Christians  are  Christians, 
but  because  Christians  are  men^  having  the  weak- 
nesses and  imperfections  of  men.  Besides,  the  very 
intemperance  of  the  controversy  proves  thus  much 
at  least,  that  there  is  something  in  the  subject  by 
which  men  are  powerfully  moved.  Does  party  spirit 
run  highest  when  there  is  nothing  at  stake  ?  When 
the  question  is  one  of  life  and  death,  —  of  eternal  life 
and  eternal  death,  —  we  can  hardly  expect  that  well- 


376  DIFFERENCES  AMONG  CHRISTIANS. 

disposed  persons  will  always  stop  to  measure  and 
exactly  balance  their  words.  Nay,  this  spirit  of 
denunciation,  for  which  so  much  disgust  is  felt  or 
affected,  —  I  trust,  after  what  has  been  said,  I  shall 
not  be  suspected  of  going  too  far,  when  I  say,  that 
it  admits  of  an  explanation  less  dishonorable  to 
society  and  human  nature,  than  the  opposite  vice 
of  indifferentism.  As  we  have  shown,  men  take 
different  sides  in  religion,  because  they  view  it  on 
different  sides.  What  they  see,  they  really  see  ;  and 
by  gazing  on  it  intently  they  come  at  length  to  see  it 
so  plainly  as  to  conclude,  that  those  who  do  not  see 
it  as  they  do  must  be  wilfully  blind.  They  denounce 
them,  therefore,  not  as  rejecting  this  or  that  particu- 
lar exposition  of  truth,  but  as  being  enemies  of  truth 
itself. 

Once  more.  A  vague  notion  exists,  I  believe,  in 
some  minds,  that  the  honor  of  God  is  somehow  impli- 
cated in  and  compromised  by  the  disgraceful  alterca- 
tions to  which  Christianity  has  given  birth.  The  fact 
that  he  does  not  interfere  to  suppress  them  creates 
a  feeling  of  uneasiness  and  distrust,  as  if  the  revela- 
tion were  not  in  reality  from  him.  Such  persons 
would  do  well  to  remember  that  God  gives  us  truth, 
as  he  gives  us  everything  else,  not  to  our  acceptance, 
but  to  our  acquisition.  Even  the  truths  of  revelation 
are  expected  to  do  us  as  much  good  by  exercising  our 
fairness  of  mind,  and  our  love  of  truth,  in  the  accept- 


DIFFERENCES  AMONG   CHRISTIANS.  877 

ance  and  interpretation  of  his  Word,  as  by  the  light 
they  give.  Consult  the  analogies  of  nature.  In  the 
legislation  of  Heaven,  there  is  nothing  corresponding 
to  Acts  of  Uniformity.  Reflection,  and  a  proper 
understanding  of  the  world  and  human  nature  must 
convince  all,  I  think,  that  these  dissensions  and  con- 
troversies, though  an  evil  as  often  conducted,  are  yet 
necessary  to  balance  or  expel  still  greater  evils.  Cer- 
tain it  is,  that  there  never  has  been  so  little  real 
religion  in  the  Church,  nor  so  many  scandalous  ex- 
cesses and  immoralities,  as  in  times  when  controversy 
was  hushed.  In  our  own  day  what  has  led  men 
to  search  the  Scriptures  with  such  intense  interest, 
what  has  moved  them  to  engage  in  many  noble 
enterprises,  what  has  led  to  increased  watchfulness, 
decorum,  and  fidelity  in  ministers  and  private  Chris- 
tains  ?  I  cannot  help  thinking,  that  among  the 
causes  which  have  brought  about  what  is  most  bright 
and  promising  in  the  present  aspect  of  things,  a  high 
place  should  be  assigned  to  our  contentions,  and,  I 
may  even  add,  to  the  jealousies  and  rivalships  which 
these  contentions  have  engendered.  These  are  not, 
perhaps,  the  highest  or  the  purest  motives  from  which 
a  man  can  act ;  but  it  is  certainly  better  that  we 
should  be  "  provoked  "  to  love  and  good  works,  to 
useful  and  noble  exertion,  even  by  such  motives, 
rather  than  be  given  up  to  indifference,  self-indul- 
gence, and  a  general  laxity  of  manners. 


378  DIFFERENCES  AMONG   CHEISTIANS. 

Still,  the  great  practical  difficulty,  some  may  insist, 
remains :  amidst  this  multitude  of  partial  and  discord- 
ant views,  which  are  we  to  adopt  ?  To  say  that  we 
should  "  prove  all  things  and  hold  fast  that  which 
is  good,"  is  a  sufficient  answer  to  theologians  ;  but 
only  a  few  are  theologians :  others,  that  is,  the  bulk 
of  Christians,  are  not  in  a  condition  to  "  prove  all 
things."  Neither  will  it  do  to  say,  that  we  should 
select  what  is  common  to  all  these  views,  and  hold 
to  that.     For  who  is  to  tell  us  what  is  common  to 

i 

all  these  views  ?  and  who  knows  but  that  what  is 
common  to  them  all  to-day,  may  have  to  submit  to 
modification  to-morrow,  as  other  and  more  extreme 
views  may  be  disclosed  ?  Besides,  suppose  that  we 
have  obtained  what  is  common  to  all  views,  and  that 
this  is  absolutely  true,  it  is  nevertheless  but  the  skele- 
ton of  truth,  without  life  or  power.  To  the  question, 
then.  Which  among  the  various  partial  and  discordant 
views  you  are  to  adopt,  this  is  my  answer,  —  Adopt 
7/our  own;  hold  fast  your  own.  Allowing  others 
to  have  their  views,  be  faithful  and  just  to  your 
own  view  ;  endeavoring,  of  course,  to  enlarge  it  from 
day  to  day,  but  adhering  to  it,  meanwhile,  and  rever- 
encing it,  as  one  view  at  least  of  truth,  and  of  that 
side  of  truth  which  is  turned  towards  you,  and  which, 
therefore,  you  must  be  presumed  to  be  most  con- 
cerned to  know. 

Above  all,  remember  that,  though  ive  are  divided, 


DIFFERENCES  AMONG   CHRISTIANS.  379 

Christ  is  not  divided.  We  all  drink  from  the  same 
"  Spiritual  Rock,"  and  that  Rock  is  Christ.  There 
is  a  living  tie  of  faith,  submission,  and  love  which 
binds  us  all,  if  not  to  one  another,  at  least  to  one  and 
the  same  living  Head.  Again  I  say,  though  we  are 
divided,  Christ  is  not  divided  ;  and  this  is  our  hope ; 
^'  an  anchor  of  the  soul,  both  sure  and  steadfast,  and 
which  entereth  into  that  within  the  vail."  Our  views 
are  still  partial,  and  therefore  discordant ;  but  we 
must  believe  that  they  will  become  less  and  less  so, 
for  they  are  views  of  Him  who  "  is  the  same  yesterday, 
to-day,  and  forever."  What  we  know  not  here,  we 
shall  know  hereafter:  the  day  is  coming  when,  for 
those  who  love  Christ  sincerely,  that  which  is  in  part 
shall  be  done  away,  and  they  shall  know  even  as  they 
are  known  ;  and  there  shall  be  one  fold  and  one 
Shepherd. 


THE    DAY   OF   JUDGMENT. 

AND  I  SAW  THE  DEAD,  SMALL  AND  GREAT,  STAND  BEFORE  GOD  : 
AND  THE  BOOKS  WERE  OPENED  I  AND  ANOTHER  BOOK  WAS 
OPENED,  WHICH  IS  THE  BOOK  OP  LIFE  :  AND  THE  DEAD  WERE 
JUDGED  OUT  OP  THOSE  THINGS  WHICH  WERE  WRITTEN  IN  THE 
BOOKS,   ACCORDING    TO    THEIR    WORKS. — Eevelation  XX.   12. 

It  belongs  to  man,  in  which  he  would  seem  to 
differ  essentially  from  the  inferior  animals,  to  make 
himself  and  his  own  thoughts  an  object  of  thought ; 
not  only  to  know  what  he  is  doing,  but  to  be  able 
to  review  his  conduct  and  compare  it  with  an  ideal 
standard  of  expediency  and  right ;  in  one  word,  to 
call  himself  to  account.  Not  only  is  he  able  to  do 
this,  but  through  his  intellectual  and  moral  constitu- 
tion it  is  forced  on  him  as  a  practical  necessity.  In 
every  human  mind,  according  to  its  measure  of  activ- 
ity and  self-consciousness,  this  process  of  self-judgment 
is  continually  going  on  ;  and  no  small  part  of  our 
happiness  and  misery  on  earth  is  traceable  to  it,  — 
that  is  to  say,  to  the  pleasures  of  self-approbation, 
and  the  pains  of  remorse.      There  is,  therefore,  an 


THE  DAY   OF  JUDGMENT.  381 

important  sense  in  which  the  whole  of  human  life 
is  one  continued  Day  of  Judgment. 

Moreover,  the  self-judgment  here  referred  to  is  un- 
derstood and  felt  to  be  of  an  authority  and  sanc- 
tion higher  than  that  of  man.  We  cannot  shake  off 
the  conviction  that  there  is  a  divine,  as  well  as  a  hu- 
man, element  in  conscience.  The  opinion  which  we 
form  as  to  what  is  right  in  any  particular  instance, 
is  a  mere  human  opinion.  It  may  be  true,  and  it 
may  be  false  ;  one  thing  to-day,  and  another  thing 
to-morrow.  But  the  sense  of  obligation  under  which 
we  are  all  laid  to  judge  ourselves  by  some  acknowl- 
edged standard  of  right,  and  to  bring  ourselves  into 
conformity  to  it  as  we  best  can,  is  not  human.  It 
does  not  depend  on  our  own  will.  It  is  the  decree 
of  our  nature ;  and  our  nature  is  the  decree  of 
God.  It  is  the  voice  of  God  speaking  to  us  through 
the  human  faculties,  ordained  by  him  for  that  pur- 
pose. Wlio  can  believe  that  God  has  so  made  us, 
that  we  cannot  help  judging  ourselves  by  the  law 
of  right,  without  believing,  at  the  same  time,  that 
he  intended  us  to  be  judged,  and  rewarded  or  pun- 
ished according  to  that  law  ? 

On  looking  round,  however,  we  see  that  this  law 
is  very  far  from  being  universally  applied,  or  fully 
carried  out  in  the  present  life.  Nothing  is  easier 
than  to  say,  that  virtue  is  its  own  reward,  and  vice 
its  own  punishment.    So  perhaps  it  would  be,  if  the 


382  THE  DAY  OF  JUDGMENT. 

natural  and  legitimate  tendencies  of  virtue  and  vice 
were  never  obstructed,  or  turned  aside ;  but,  as 
things  go  in  this  world,  we  know  that  in  point  of 
fact  they  are  obstructed  and  turned  aside  in  a 
thousand  ways ;  and  the  consequence  is,  that  in 
cases  without  number  the  wicked  prosper,  and  the 
righteous  are  trodden  down.  Let  no  one  think  to 
shake  this  conclusion  by  insisting  that  the  tenden- 
cies of  virtue  and  vice,  referred  to  above,  are  natural 
and  eternal,  whilst  the  obstacles  to  their  becoming 
effect  in  this  world  are  accidental  and  temporary. 
It  is  enough  for  the  argument  to  know,  that  the 
obstacles  in  question,  whether  accidental  and  tem- 
porary or  not,  will  last  as  long  as  this  life  lasts. 
Thus  much  being  conceded,  it  follows  incontestably, 
that,  if  there  is  ever  to  be  a  perfectly  righteous 
retribution,  we  must  look  for  it  beyond  the  grave. 
Clement  of  Rome  has  handed  down  a  tradition  iu 
the  Church,  that  the  Apostle  Peter  was  so  much 
impressed  by  this  view  of  the  subject  as  to  be  in 
the  habit  of  exclaiming,  "  God  is  just ;  therefore, 
the  soul  is  immortal." 

By  such  natural  intimations  as  these,  almost  every 
people,  with  or  without  the  aid  of  revelation,  have 
been  led  to  entertain,  with  more  or  less  distinctness 
and  confidence,  the  presentiment  of  "  a  judgment  to 
come."  Even  in  Homer  there  are  unmistakable 
traces  of  a  popular  belief  in  a  future  state   of  ex- 


THE  DAY   OF  JUDGMENT.  383 

istence,  where  the  fate  of  the  individual  is  made  to 
turn,  more  or  less,  on  his  previous  character,  and 
especially  on  his  conduct  towards  the  gods.  The 
same  is  also  laid  down  as  a  practical  doctrine  of  great 
moment  by  the  best  among  the  pagan  philosophers 
and  moralists  ;  and  sometimes,  as  in  the  apologue 
of  Erus  the  Pamphylian,  given  in  Plato's  Republic, 
in  language  bearing  a  striking  resemblance  to  that 
used  four  hundred  years  afterwards  in  the  New 
Testament.  A  brave  man,  having  fallen  in  battle, 
was  permitted  to  return  to  the  earth  on  the  twelfth 
day,  in  order  to  warn  the  living  by  a  revelation  of 
what  he  had  seen.  He  had  seen  the  dead  arraigned, 
and  when  the  judges,  to  borrow  the  words  of  the 
apologue,  "  gave  judgment,  they  commanded  the  just 
to  go  on  the  right  hand,  and  upwards  through  the 
heaven,  having  fitted  marks  on  the  front  of  those 
that  had  been  judged ;  but  the  unjust  they  com- 
manded to  the  left,  and  downwards,  and  these  like- 
wise had  behind  them  marks  of  all  that  they  had 
done." 

There  are  those,  I  am  aware,  who  make  no  ac- 
count of  pagan  notions  of  a  future  retribution,  on 
the  ground  that  they  neither  amounted  to  a  proper 
faith,  nor  had  the  influence  of  a  proper  faith.  We 
are  told,  for  example,  that  Cicero,  though  he  in- 
sists on  the  doctrine  in  his  philosophical  writings, 
takes  occasion  in  more  than  one  instance  to  deride 


384  THE  DAY   OF  JUDGMENT. 

or  disown  it  in  private  correspondence  with  his 
friends.  The  argument,  however,  is  not  of  much 
weight ;  for,  in  the  first  place,  what  Cicero  derides 
and  disowns  is  often,  not  the  fact  of  a  future  retri- 
bution, but  the  popular  superstitions  respecting  it ; 
in  the  second  place,  even  if  his  misgivings  occa- 
sionally go  deeper,  is  it  without  precedent  that 
very  good  and  pious  men  should  be  subject  at  times 
to  moods,  during  which  they  can  hardly  be  said  to 
believe  in  anything  ?  and,  lastly,  the  individual  se- 
lected as  a  representative  may  be  objected  to,  for 
it  has  never  been  understood  that  Cicero  was  a 
very  good,  and  much  less  a  very  pious  or  religious 
man,  even  for  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  If,  then, 
a  still  broader  ground  should  be  taken ;  if  it 
should  be  contended  that  the  life  of  pagans  cannot 
be  reconciled  with  a  sincere  belief  in  a  righteous 
retribution,  I  freely  admit  the  difficulty :  but  it  is 
a  difficulty  which  does  not  end  with  the  pagans. 
I  ask  you  to  reconcile,  if  you  can,  the  actual  life 
of  Christendom  itself  with  the  general  acceptance 
of  that  doctrine.  Probably  the  solution  of  the  diffi- 
culty is  the  same  in  both  cases.  As  a  general  rule, 
men  do  not  act  out  their  opinions,  their  theories, 
their  real  convictions,  certainly  not  with  much  strict- 
ness, whatever  they  may  be :  they  act  out  their 
passions,  propensities,  and  habits  ;  and  these  again 
depend,  in  no  small  measure,  on  organization,  and 


THE  DAY  OF  JUDGMENT.  385 

on  the  customs  and  institutions  of  society,  that  is 
to  say,  on  physical  and  local  causes,  many  of  which 
it  is  impossible  either  to  trace  or  explain. 

From  the  pagans  we  pass  to  the  Jews,  among  whom 
Christianity  arose.  Moses,  their  great  Lawgiver, 
aimed  to  establish  what  is  called  a  theocracy,  that  is 
a  government  of  God  upon  earth,  in  which  perfect 
righteousness  was  to  be  fulfilled.  Of  course,  in  such 
a  state  of  things,  as  they  had  a  present  Divine  judg- 
ment, there  was  the  less  occasion  to  appeal  to  2i  future 
Divine  judgment.  Nevertheless,  I  cannot  help  think- 
ing that  those  who  go  so  far  as  to  deny  a  distinct 
recognition  of  another  world  in  the  Old  Testament, 
and  even  in  the  earlier  parts  of  it,  must  find  extreme 
difficulty  in  explaining  certain  passages,  especially 
such  traditions  as  those  respecting  the  translation 
of  Enoch  and  Elijah.  Be  this,  however,  as  it  may, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  in  the  time  of  our  Lord 
the  great  body  of  the  Jewish  people  had  become 
believers  in  the  doctrine  of  a  future  state  of  rewards 
and  punishments.  In  the  apocryphal  "Book  of 
Wisdom,''  supposed  to  have  been  written  about  a 
century  before  Christ,  we  find  a  passage  on  this  sub- 
ject which  might  have  come  from  an  apostle :  "  But 
the  souls  of  the  righteous  are  in  the  hand  of  God, 
and  there  shall  no  torment  touch  them.  In  the  sight 
of  the  unwise  they  seem  to  die ;  and  their  departure 
is  taken  for  misery,  and  their  going  from  us  to  be 

17  Y 


386  THE  DAY   OF  JUDGMENT. 

utter  destruction  ;  but  they  are  in  peace.  For  though 
they  be  punished  in  the  sight  of  men,  yet  is  their 
hope  full  of  immortality ;  and  having  been  a  little 
chastised,  they  shall  be  greatly  rewarded :  for  God 
proved  them,  and  found  them  worthy  of  himself." 

Accordingly,  the  doctrine  of  a  future  state  of  retri- 
bution cannot  be  accounted  a  Christian  doctrine  in 
the  sense  of  being  first  taught  in  Christianity.  How, 
then,  it  may  be  asked,  are  we  to  understand  that 
passage  in  St.  Paul's  Second  Epistle  to  Timothy,  in 
which  he  speaks  of  "  the  appearing  of  our  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ,  who  hath  abolished  death,  and  hath 
brought  life  and  immortality  to  light  through  the 
Gospel "  ?  I  answer,  that  to  bring  a  subject  "  to 
light "  does  not  necessarily  mean  to  make  it  known 
for  the  first  time,  but  to  make  it  more  generally  and 
fully  known,  —  to  illustrate  it,  to  clear  it  up,  to  set 
it  in  its  true  light,  so  that  all  may  see  it  as  it  is.  And 
this  is  precisely  what  Christianity  has  done  for  "  life 
and  immortality."  It  has  given  us  new  evidence 
of  the  facts  in  the  case  ;  it  has  enabled  us  to  see 
these  facts  in  new  lights,  and  under  new  aspects  and 
relations:  so  that  the  whole  doctrine,  in  itself  con- 
sidered, has  become  substantially  a  new  doctrine. 

This  being  the  case,  it  remains  for  me  to  speak  of 
what  may  properly  be  considered  as  peculiar  and 
original  in  the  Christian  doctrine  of  the  judgment  to 
come. 


THE   DAY   OF   JUDGMENT.  387 

In  the  first  place,  I  attach  but  little,  if  any,  impor- 
tance to  the  distinction  insisted  on  by  Bishop  Butler. 
According  to  him,  "  all  which  can  positively  be  as- 
serted to  be  matter  of  mere  revelation,  with  regard  to 
the  future  judgment,  seems  to  be,  that  the  great  dis- 
tinction between  the  righteous  and  the  wicked  shall 
be  made  at  the  end  of  this  world ;  that  each  shall 
then  receive  according  to  his  deserts."  *  On  the  con- 
trary, the  whole  doctrine  of  a  day  of  judgment  —  of  a 
single  day  or  a  set  time  for  all  mankind  —  seems  to 
me  to  have  originated  in  the  mistake  of  construing 
passages  literally  which  were  intended  to  be  under- 
stood figuratively.  If  we  insist  on  construing  these 
passages  literally,  consistency  would  seem  to  require 
us  to  go  further  still.  We  must  believe  not  merely 
in  a  day,  but  also  in  a  place,  —  nay,  more,  in  real  books, 
in  a  real  consultation  of  records ;  in  short,  in  all  the 
paraphernalia  of  a  human  tribunal.  Let  me  not  be 
suspected  of  objecting  to  or  undervaluing  those  rep- 
resentations of  Scripture  which  bring  up  the  vision 
of  all  mankind  standing  before  the  judgment-seat  of 
Christ,  "  that  every  one  may  receive  the  things  done 
in  his  body,  according  to  that  he  hath  done,  whether 
it  be  good  or  bad."  In  no  other  way  would  it  be  pos- 
sible sujSiciently  to  impress  the  imagination  and  the 
feelings  with  that  greatest  and  most  solemn  of  realities, 
—  namely,  that  you  and  I,  and  every  one  that  lives, 

*  Analogy,  Part  I.  Chap.  II. 


388  THE  DAY   OF  JUDGMENT. 

will  have  to  answer  in  the  spirit  for  what  is  done 
in  the  body.  It  is  only  necessary,  that,  in  our  sober 
thinking,  we  should  not  confound  the  truth  which 
is  conveyed  under  the  images  in  question  with  the 
images  themselves. 

On  the  whole,  the  most  natural  and  Christian 
view  would  seem  to  be,  that,  with  every  individual, 
as  soon  as  this  life  ends  the  next  life  begins.  Else 
how  could  our  Saviour  say  to  the  penitent  thief  on 
the  cross,  "  To-day  shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  para- 
dise "  ?  or  Paul,  of  Christians  generally,  "  We  are 
confident,  I  say,  and  willing  rather  to  be  absent 
from  the  body,  and  to  be  present  with  the  Lord"? 
or  Stephen  exclaim  in  the  agonies  of  death,  "Lord 
Jesus !  receive  my  spirit "  ?  Without  pretending, 
therefore,  to  be  wise  above  what  is  written,  I  think 
we  may  safely  hold,  that  the  day  of  judgment  to 
every  individual  will  be  the  day  of  his  death.  It 
will  begin  then;  by  what  processes  and  instrumen- 
talities it  will  be  carried  on,  and  how  or  when  it 
will  end,  are  among  the  secret  things  which  belong 
to  the  Lord  our  God.  If  you  wish  to  be  told  the 
details  of  what  is  to  be  in  the  life  to  come,  you 
must  not  go  to  the  Gospel ;  you  must  go  to  the 
Koran,  which  is  full  of  it.  As  regards  everything 
pertaining  to  the  form  and  manner  —  or,  so  to  speak, 
the  outward  appearance  —  of  the  invisible  world,  what 
most  distinguishes  Christianity  when  compared  with 


THE  DAY   OF   JUDGMENT.  889 

other  and  false  religions,  —  what  indeed,  on  the  nega- 
tive side,  may  be  regarded  as  peculiar  and  oi'iginal 
in  it,  —  is,  not  the  fulness  of  the  information  it  con- 
veys, but  its  discreet  and  solemn  reserve.  In  the 
not  very  frequent  allusions  to  the  subject  the  lan- 
guage is  purposely  varied,  so  that  the  most  cursory 
reader  might  not  fall  into  the  mistake  of  under- 
standing it  to  the  letter.  One  thing,  however,  is  put 
beyond  question,  —  happiness  to  the  good,  misery 
to  the  bad  ;  that  is,  all  that  can  give  moral  effect 
to  the  revelation  :  not  a  word,  not  a  syllable,  either 
to  stimulate  or  gratify  an  idle  and  impertinent 
curiosity. 

But  these,  things  are  comparatively  of  small  mo- 
ment. What  chiefly  and  essentially  distinguishes 
the  Christian  doctrine  of  the  final  judgment  has 
nothing  to  do  with  the  time  and  circumstances  of 
that  event ;  it  relates  to  the  principle,  to  the  law 
by  which  everything  is  then  to  be  determined. 
"  Who  will  render  to  every  man  according  to  his 
deeds :  to  them  who,  by  patient  continuance  in  well- 
doing, seek  for  glory  and  honor  and  immortality, 
eternal  life ;  but  unto  them  that  are  contentious, 
and  do  not  obey  the  truth,  but  obey  unrighteous- 
ness, indignation  and  wrath ;  tribulation  and  an- 
guish upon  every  soul  of  man  that  doeth  evil,  — • 
of  the  Jew  first,  and  also  of  the  Gentile  ;  but  glory, 
honor,  and  peace  to  every  man  that  worketh  good, 


390  THE  DAY   OF  JUDGMENT. 

—  to  the  Jew  first,  and  also  to  the  Gentile ;  for 
there  is  no  respect  of  persons  with  God."  The 
same  ground  is  also  taken  by  another  apostle : 
"  Then  Peter  opened  his  mouth  and  said,  '  Of  a 
truth  I  perceive  that  God  is  no  respecter  of  per- 
sons ;  but  in  every  nation  he  that  feareth  him,  and 
worketh  righteousness,  is  accepted  with  him.'  "  A 
multitude  of  such  passages  might  be  cited  from  the 
apostolic  writings ;  and  they  do  but  reassert  what 
our  Lord  himself  had  expressly  taught  in  the  Ser- 
mon on  the  Mount :  "  Not  every  one  that  saith 
unto  me,  Lord,  Lord,  shall  enter  into  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  ;  but  he  that  doeth  the  will  of  my 
Father  which  is  in  heaven.  Many  will  say  to  me 
in  that  day,  ^  Lord,  Lord,  have  we  not  prophesied  in 
thy  name  ?  and  in  thy  name  have  cast  out  devils  ? 
and  in  thy  name  have  done  many  wonderful  works  ? ' 
And  then  will  I  profess  unto  them,  I  never  knew 
you :  depart  from  me,  ye  that  work  iniquity." 

We  are  so  accustomed  to  language  like  this  in 
the  New  Testament  as  to  be  hardly  in  a  condition 
to  see  in  it  anything  peculiar  or  original.  But 
where  will  you  find  its  parallel  ?  Certainly  not  in 
any  of  the  thousand  forms  of  polytheism  which 
have  prevailed  in  the  world.  I  do  not  say,  I  have 
no  right  to  say,  even  of  these,  certainly  not  of  the 
best  of  them,  that  they  entirely  exclude  moral  ideas 
or  a  moral  accountability.     But  need  I  remind  you 


THE  DAY  OF  JUDGMENT.  391 

t 

how  often  even  the  purest  of  them  represent  justice 
as  interfered  with  by  jealousies  and  rivalships  among 
the  Divinities  themselves,  or  by  partiahty  or  favor- 
itism for  particular  communities  or  particular  in- 
dividuals ?  how  often  they  speak  of  the  anger  of 
the  gods  as  directed,  not  against  unrighteousness, 
but  against  some  personal  slight  or  neglect?  And 
what  shall  I  say  of  Judaism  ?  Every  thoughtful 
reader  must  be  struck  with  the  lofty  tone  of  mono- 
theistic morality  pervading  the  Old  Testament ;  but 
it  was  never  understood  to  come  up  to  the  Chris- 
tian standard ;  it  is  expressly  said  in  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount  not  to  do  so.  Judaism  is  marred  through- 
out —  sometimes  in  principle,  and  still  oftener  in  spirit 
—  by  the  narrowness  and  arrogance  of  a  people  edu- 
cated in  the  belief  that  God  was  their  God  in  a 
sense  in  which  he  was  not  the  God  of  all  mankind. 
Nowhere  but  in  Christianity  will  you  find  it  dis- 
tinctly laid  down,  as  of  Divine  authority,  that  every 
man  is  to  be  judged  at  last  by  what  he  has  him- 
self done,  whether  it  be  good  or  bad. 

Let  us  now  go  one  step  further,  and  ascertain, 
if  we  can,  precisely  what  is  meant  when  it  is  said, 
that  men  are  to  be  judged  "  according  to  their 
deeds."  I  beHeve  there  are  those  who  interpret  it 
to  mean,  that  a  sort  of  moral  account  current  is 
opened  with  every  man,  as  soon  as  he  comes  to 
years  of  discretion,  in  which  he  is  credited  for  all 


392  THE  DAY   OF  JUDGMENT. 

his  virtues  and  charged  with  all  his  sins,  and  that 
he  will  be  rewarded  or  punished  m  the  end  for 
each  particular  act.  Mr.  Locke  must  have  enter- 
tained some  such  notion  when  arguing  that,  before 
a  man  can  be  justly  punished  in  the  next  life  for 
the  sins  committed  here,  those  sins  must  be  brought 
to  his  remembrance  ;  that  is,  he  must  be  conscious 
of  having  committed  those  particular  sins.  And  so 
Coleridge,  who,  after  advancing  the  conjecture  that 
"  the  resurrection  body  "  may  so  stimulate  the  mem- 
ory, as  to  bring  before  every  human  soul  the  col- 
lective experience  of  its  whole  past  existence,  adds : 
"And  this,  —  this,  perchance,  is  the  dread  Book  of 
Judgment,  in  whose  mysterious  hieroglyphics  every 
idle  word  is  recorded."  All  such  speculations  origi- 
nate, as  it  seems  to  me,  in  the  common  error  of 
pushing  too  far  the  analogy  between  the  human 
and  the  Divine  administrations  of  justice.  The  dis- 
tinction here  to  be  taken'  into  view  is  sufficiently 
obvious.  We  were  told  long  ago,  that  "  the  Lord 
seeth  not  as  man  seeth ;  for  man  looketh  on  the 
outward  appearance,  but  the  Lord  looketh  on  the 
heart."  If,  therefore,  there  is  one  thing  clearer  than 
any  other  in  Christian  ethics,  it  is  this,  —  that  every 
man  is  to  stand  or  fall  according  to  what  he  is  in 
himself;  —  not  by  what  he  does,  except  in  so  far  as 
it  expresses  what  he  really  is.  Acts  of  worship  in 
a  hypocrite,   munificent  gifts  merely  for  the  name 


THE  DAY   OF  JUDGMENT.  393 

of  it,  solemn  make-beliefe  of  the  would-be  worship- 
per of  God  and  the  world  at  the  same  time,  go  for 
nothing.  The  question  continually  returns,  What  is 
the  man  in  himself?  Not  that  the  language  used 
in  Scripture  in  speaking  of  the  final  judgment  is  to 
be  excepted  to  or  set  aside,  in  any  manner  or  de- 
gree. It  is  still  as  true  as  ever  that  we  shall  all 
be  judged  at  the  last  "  according  to  what  we  have 
done,  whether  it  be  good  or  bad,"  because  this  will 
have  made  us  to  be  what  we  are;  nevertheless 
everything  at  the  Judgment  Day  will  depend  on 
what  we  are.  There  is,  therefore,  no  occasion  for 
the  nice  balancing  of  accounts,  item  by  item,  re- 
ferred to  above  ;  neither  is  there  any  occasion  for  a 
miraculous  memory  to  enable  us  to  call  to  mind 
every  thought  we  have  indulged,  every  word  we 
have  uttered,  and  every  action  we  have  performed. 
It  will  be  enough,  if  we  know  in  what  moral  and 
spiritual  state  all  these  have  left  us;  and  to  know 
this  it  will  be  enough,  if  we  are  made  conscious  of 
what  we  are. 

This  view  of  the  case  —  distinctly  apprehended 
and  firmly  held  —  will  help  to  reconcile  an  apparent 
discrepancy  in  the  Scriptures  as  to  the  person  of  the 
Judge.  Thus,  in  one  place  we  are  told  that  "  God 
shall  bring  every  work  into  judgment,  with  every 
secret  thing,  whether  it  be  good  or  whether  it  be 
evil."     In  another  place  it  is  said,  "  the  Father  judg- 

17=* 


394  THE  DAY   OF  JUDGMENT. 

eth  no  man,  but  hath  committed  all  judgment  to  the 
Son.^^  And,  m  still  another  place,  our  Lord  himself 
is  represented  as  saying :  "  And  if  any  man  hear  my 
words,  and  believe  not,  I  judge  him  not :  for  I  came 
not  to  judge  the  world,  but  to  save  the  world.  He 
that  rejecteth  me,  and  receiveth  not  my  words,  hath 
one  that  judgeth  him ;  the  Word  that  I  have  spoken, 
the  same  shall  judge  him  at  the  last  day."  Now 
there  is  plainly  no  contradiction,  no  difficulty  here, 
provided  only  that  we  dismiss  the  imagination  of  a 
formal  trial,  and  make  the  future  judgment  to  consist 
in  the  fact,  that  every  soul  will  become  happy  or 
miserable  at  death,  according  to  its  conscious  deserts. 
The  judgment  thus  understood,  we  may  say  with 
equal  truth,  looking  at  the  subject  under  different 
points  of  view,  that  God  is  the  Judge,  that  Christ  is 
the  Judge,  or  that  the  Gospel  is  the  Judge.  God  is 
the  Judge,  inasmuch  as  all  justice  has  its  origin  and 
foundation  in  the  absolute  holiness  and  rectitude  of 
the  Divine  nature.  Christ  is  the  Judge,  inasmuch  as 
he  is  the  dispenser  of  Divine  justice  on  earth ;  it  is 
in  and  througli  Him  that  this  justice  is  made  known 
among  men,  and  applied  to  human  affairs.  And 
finally,  the  Gospel  is  the  Judge,  inasmuch  as  it  is  the 
expression  of  the  Divine  justice,  that  is,  it  sets  forth 
the  laws  and  conditions  of  spiritual  life  and  spiritual 
death,  according  to  which  every  soul  will  take  its 
appropriate  place  in  the  eternal  world. 


THE  DAY   OF  JUDGMENT.  395 

The  last-mentioned  statement  makes  it  necessary 
to  glance  at  one  question  more.  We  say,  every  soul 
will  take  its  appropriate  place  in  the  next  life  ;  but 
why  do  so  in  the  next  life,  any  more  than  in  this  ? 

There  may  be  agencies  and  appliances  to  carry  into 
effect  the  righteous  retributions  of  eternity,  of  which, 
with  our  present  faculties  and  experience,  we  can  form 
no  conception.  But  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  resort 
to  what  may  be  termed  the  argument  from  igno- 
rance. There  is  one  thing  which  we  know.  We  know 
why  it  is  that  a  righteous  retribution  is  not  more 
generally  reached  in  the  life  that  now  is.  We  know, 
for  example,  why  it  is  that  a  mean  man  lifts  up  his 
head  in  good  society  ;  why  it  is  that  a  designing  poli- 
tician often  passes  for  a  sincere  patriot ;  why  it  is  that 
showy  manners  often  go  for  more  than  substantial 
virtues ;  why  it  is  that,  in  the  struggle  for  wealth  and 
honor,  the  bad  man  often  succeeds,  and  the  good  man 
often  fails.  It  is  because  the  purely  moral  aspect  of 
things  has  comparatively  little  to  do  in  determining 
our  condition  here.  It  is  because  a  multitude  of 
influences,  having  little  of  nothing  to  do  with  virtue  or 
vice  are  constantly  at  work  in  this  world  to  modify  the 
opinions  entertained  of  us  by  others,  and  even  by 
ourselves.  Here  things  are  not  as  they  seem.  We 
walk  in  "  a  vain  show."  It  is  only  necessary  to  sup- 
pose, therefore,  that  death  will  have  the  effect  to  strip 
ofl"  these  disguises  ;   it  is  only  necessary  to  assume 


396  THE  DAY   OF  JUDGMENT. 

that  this  imposing  but  hollow  masquerade  will  come 
to  an  end,  and  then  every  soul  will  seem  to  be  what  it 
is,  and  take  its  place  accordingly.  Glimpses  are 
sometimes  given  us  of  what  is  to  be  expected  when 
the  world  is  judged  in  righteousness,  and  the  secrets 
of  all  hearts  are  laid  bare  ;  and  it  is  always,  as  our 
argument  would  lead  us  to  anticipate,  when  for  some 
reason  moral  causes  have  become  for  the  time  all 
in  all.  It  is  when  man  forgets  everything  else,  and 
thinks  only  of  his  relations  to  a  holy  and  merciful 
God ;  —  as  in  the  joy  and  peace  of  the  new  con- 
vert, and  in  the  remorse  and  despair  of  the  stricken 
soul.  Let  such  a  state  of  things  become  general,  uni- 
versal, and  the  dark  and  perplexing  riddle  of  human 
destiny  is  solved :  —  the  judgment  is  past ;  heaven 
and  hell  have  begun! 

It  may  be  said,  that  the  guilty  soul  will  still  be 
in  the  hands  of  a  compassionate  God  ;  and  this  is 
true.  Beware,  however,  of  making  compassion  in 
God  what  it  often  is  in  man,  —  a  mere  tenderness, 
I  had  almost  said,  a  mere  weakness.  Nor  is  this 
all.  We  must  not  expect  in  the  next  world  what 
is  incompatible  with  its  nature  and  purpose.  We 
are  placed  here  to  make  a  beginning.  We  can 
begin  here  what  course  we  please  ;  and  if  we  do 
not  like  it,  we  can  go  back,  and  begin  again.  Are 
you  sure  it  will  be  so  in  the  world  to  come  ? 
Why  first  a  world   of  probation   and   then  a  world 


THE  DAY   OF  JUDGMENT.  397 

of  retribution,  if  after  all  both  are  to  be  equally 
and  alike  probationary  ?  Let  us  not  run  risks,  where 
the  error,  if  it  be  one,  is  irretrievable,  and  the  stake 
infinite.  How  much  better  to  be  able  to  say,  with  the 
Apostle,  "  Therefore  we  are  always  confident,  know- 
ing that,  while  we  are  at  home  in  the  body,  we  are 
absent  from  the  Lord :  we  are  confident,  I  say,  and 
willing  rather  to  be  absent  from  the  body,  and  to  be 
present  with  the  Lord.  Wherefore  we  labor,  that, 
whether  present  or  absent,  we  may  be  accepted  of 
Him" 


THE  END. 


Cambridge  :  Stereotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co. 


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